


Comfort Food (for thought)

by SkyWrite



Category: Original Work
Genre: Belly Rubs, Multi, Original Character(s), Original Universe, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Stomach Ache, Stuffing, Urban Fantasy, Vomiting, emeto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2020-02-29 08:25:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 22,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18774907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyWrite/pseuds/SkyWrite
Summary: Side stories for my characters Elijah and Micah! This is mostly a compilation of short, lighthearted fics featuring lots of belly-centric fluff and comfort, but even the occasional more angsty chapter never fails to end in plenty of thorough caretaking. ♡





	1. Hits the Spot

**Author's Note:**

> You can find my main work here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16892070
> 
> If you'd like to ask me questions or see some additional content for my characters, you can come see me at:  
> https://tiny-tum.tumblr.com

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elijah’s been hungry for a while and gets to eat his fill and take a nap. Micah gives him a little belly rub as he drifts off~

Elijah pried his eyes open as an insistent hand ruffled his hair for the third time. His thoughts were swimming and there was a haze in the room, he could swear the edges of his vision were grey.

“Micah.” He rasped, then cleared his throat and rolled over a little more on the bed. “I have been awake for thirty-nine hours. Please let me sleep.”

“Yeah, I’m willing to bet your dumb ass hasn’t _eaten_ anything for thirty-nine hours, either.” Micah retorted blandly. He was perched on the edge of his dorm bed where Elijah was sprawled; ankles and feet dangling off, one hand dragging the carpeted floor. Macy and Sasha were eyeing them with poorly-hidden grins from where they sat on the futon, watching a movie on the computer. Micah’s roommate was out for a family function, and so Micah had piled as many friends as he could fit in the tiny space for some time together.

“Don’t remind me.” Elijah huffed, grasping pleadingly at the corner of drowsiness in his mind. He just wanted to _sleep_. But his stomach was aching and gnawing inside him, demanding attention despite his valiant attempts to ignore it. As if to spite him, it growled, long and low, and across the room, Sasha laughed gently. He tried to focus his eyes on her but his vision went fuzzy and his eyes fell shut again.

“Come on big guy, just let Micah get some food into you. You’ll sleep better if you’re not hungry anyways!”

“Later.” Elijah pleaded, shifting on the bed again slightly, stirring up more of Micah’s scent and making it even harder to cling to consciousness. “Your bed smells like you.” He could ignore the hunger pangs long enough to just take the edge off the exhaustion. He’d ignore them right along with the deep bruise in his back. It had been a well-placed kick and he’d failed to roll out of the way in time. The soreness lanced up his spine, even into his shoulder. It must be black and blue, but he hadn’t taken his shirt off to check.

Micah laughed. “You sounded so _sappy_ saying that. I’ve got that fried rice stuff in the fridge. We don’t even have to go anywhere.” His hand had settled over Elijah’s belly and was rubbing softly, fingers pressing in a way that just made it growl louder, and Elijah sighed in frustration.

“Alright.”

“Ya gotta get up, dude. If I could pull you up myself, I would.”

With immense effort, Elijah stirred, pressing a hand to the wall and levering himself up, wincing as the soreness in his back intensified, but thankfully, Micah had already turned away to get a paper plate and didn’t notice. Maybe the girls gave him odd glances but he couldn’t be sure. He was too busy rubbing his eyes, hoping they’d stay open for just a few minutes.

A plate was pushed into his hands and he struggled to lift his head as Micah pressed into his side, cuddling up to him and putting an arm around his back. His best friend surely meant well, surely meant only to help him hold himself up, but the affectionate squeeze jabbed at the pain in his back and he flinched with a little sound. Micah froze instantly.

“Elijah? Are you hurt?”

“Not. Badly.” Elijah blinked, trying to decide if his eyes were closed or he just couldn’t see through the fog. “Just a bruise.”

Micah’s hand suddenly caught the edge of the plate and held it up. “Eat, you bastard. Stop trying to dump your food everywhere.”

Elijah fumbled with the plastic fork, forcing his eyes open and offering Micah a reassuring smile. His best friend smirked at him in relief, but poked his stomach insistently. 

“Don’t make me shove that down your throat myself.”

Elijah grunted in protest, then lifted a forkful and pressed it past his lips. He ate in methodical silence for a few moments, then it seemed his body recognized that it was being fed, and the hunger roared to the surface. He started counting seconds in between each mouthful so he wouldn’t go too fast.

“Told you.” Micah pulled away, and Elijah heard the door of the mini fridge opening and closing again. Had he emptied the plate that quickly? He blinked open his eyes and scooped up the last few bites, swallowing them down and letting Micah take the plate from him to refill it. It was given back to him a moment later and he kept eating, biting into chicken and rice and bits of steamed vegetables. The food had both a crunch and a chew and it was so easy to go too fast, but he counted seconds and kept an even pace.

By the time Micah took the plate from him a second time, his stomach had ceased its complaints. He could feel it grumbling in a pleasant way, relieved to have something to digest instead of continuing to claw at itself. It wasn’t loud enough to _hear_ , thankfully; he’d had quite enough of his belly talking to the entire room. Elijah shook his head to help himself open his eyes when Micah gave him back the plate again. He hadn’t been expecting another helping… maybe he should stop eating his best friend’s food. It really wasn’t fair of him when he wasn’t hungry anymore.

But his brain was more or less on autopilot and he didn’t have the mental facilities to pursue that train of thought much further, and his fork dug back into the rice seemingly of it’s own accord. He chewed and swallowed and emptied the plate a third time, humming once around the taste. It was really, really good and he’d barely even noticed. Something like soy sauce lingered on his lips and he licked it away.

The plastic fork scraped the empty rim of the plate for the third time and then a little pocket of air slid up his throat, ending in a soft, subdued belch and he sighed, hoping he hadn’t been too impolite, but…

“I’m full.” He realized, jerking a little when he felt himself tilting over, and the movement provoked a hiccup as Micah took the plate before he could drop it. He felt his best friend rub his shoulder warmly.

“Okay, good. You can sleep now. Goddesses, you look _so_ dead right now.”

Elijah grabbed at the edge of the mattress so he wouldn’t fall over too suddenly, and he stretched back out, head sinking into Micah’s pillow and he took a deep breath. Everything was going dark. His belly was warm and solid and so comfortably satiated; he sighed again and wondered why he thought it would have been a good idea to try to sleep on empty.

He felt Micah settle on the bed beside him again, then a hand stroked over his middle and a soft sound of surprise left his lips, but it felt so good when Micah rubbed a little circle against his full stomach that he hummed with pleasure.

“I’m full…” The words felt so _indulgent_ , and Elijah remembered a second later that he’d already said that, and felt a little embarrassed, but it slipped away before it could root too deeply. Even the twinging pain in his back felt like it had dulled, and he felt a rush of grateful affection when his best friend laughed softly.

“That was definitely the idea.” Micah giggled. “Get some sleep, El.”

Elijah faded, sleeping deeply within moments. Micah’s hand kept rubbing at his full belly and he was blissfully unconscious enough to enjoy it, rather than remind himself he didn’t deserve it.


	2. Christmas AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mini fic that finds Elijah, Micah, and Sasha celebrating a traditional Christmas holiday! Micah stuffs himself on cookies and gets lots of love. ♡

Micah yawned as he rolled over, blinking his eyes against the soft glow of the living room lamp. The scent of holiday spiced cookies made him smile sleepily, but proved not to be enough to rouse him just yet, as he tucked one arm over his girlfriend next to him on the couch and burrowed further into the cushions. He felt her laugh softly.

“Babe.” Her hand ruffled his curls. “Thought you were only gonna nap for an hour? I want some help with the Christmas tree!”  
“Get El.” Micah slurred, yawning again. “S’taller than me anyways.”  
“Elijah!” Sasha called into the kitchen. “Can you come wake up your fluffy lump?”  
“No.” Micah huffed, hiding his face further in a pillow and ignoring the soft, heavy footsteps coming in from the kitchen.

An amused, “Yes,” was all the warning he got, just before Elijah arms scooped him up and Micah yelped, immensely indignant as he watched the sofa whisk away beneath him.

“It’s time to get up, Micah.”  
“Put me down, you fucking behemoth.” Micah bleated, shoving at his best friend’s bearded face, squirming to be released, quite confident that Elijah wouldn’t simply drop him. Elijah chuckled and kissed his forehead, continuing to cradle him several feet above the floor without the slightest hint of strain. Sasha watched them both from her seat on the couch with an immensely smug grin on her face.

“The cookies will be finished baking soon, I thought you wanted to decorate them?” Elijah set him back on his feet gently, making sure he had his balance before releasing him. He tweaked the knitted collar of Micah’s red and white Christmas sweater, straightening it from it’s ruffled state.  
“I do.” Micah whined. “But I was _cozy_ , dammit.”

“Well you can get cozy again after we’ve gotten the decorations finished!” Sasha told him as she hopped up, snagging a box of ornaments and tossing him a wad of tinsel. He caught it and chucked it at Elijah who batted it onto the floor. They both looked at it for a moment before Elijah bent down to gather it up and carry it over to Sasha by the tree.

“Okay, you two do _that_.” Micah grinned at the set of reproachful glances he got. “I’m gonna put on some Christmas music and watch the cookies! I’ll let you know when I take em out so we can all decorate them together.”

“Use oven mitts.” Elijah murmured as he passed a glass reindeer to Sasha, who snorted at the implication that Micah would just grab the baking tray with his bare hands. Micah stuck his tongue out at the back of Elijah’s head and went for the kitchen as Sasha’s giggles filled the room behind him.

Soon the merry melody of _Jingle Bells_ was floating through the house, and Micah stirred up a few mugs of hot chocolate to microwave while he waited on the cookies to finish baking. They’d made two batches; one was shortbread, destined to be glazed with a sweet, sugary icing, and the other was a tray of gingersnaps. Their sharp, sweet aroma hung in the air, and he grabbed a pair of oven mitts swiftly to take them out when the timer dinged cheerfully.

He poked his head into the other room, mouth open to call and let Sasha and Elijah know that the cookies were cooling on their racks, when he stopped in astonishment, as a huge smile stole across his face and his breath caught in adoration.

Elijah had hooked his hands underneath Sasha’s shoulders and was lifting her up, holding her steady while she carefully arranged a star at the top of the tree. He set her lightly on her feet again when she was done, and she beamed, turning to give him a hug that he accepted with a soft sound of affection. 

Micah quickly ducked back behind the corner so they wouldn’t know he was staring, counted seven seconds, then hopped back out with a flourish. “Cookies are done! I made hot chocolate, too!”  
“You used the stove?” Elijah asked, sounding concerned. “On your own?”  
Sasha barked a laugh and Micah pouted. “No, I just microwaved some instant stuff.”  
“Oh.” His best friend followed behind Sasha to join Micah in the kitchen. “I’m sorry Micah, but the instant hot chocolate has too much sugar in it, for me.”

“Aw, shit, I’m sorry, dude. Didn’t think of that.” Micah reached for a cabinet and pulled out some tea. “I can make you some chamomile, instead? I’ll just drink your mug.”  
Elijah smiled softly, pulling down a big packet of marshmallows without even being asked. “I would very much enjoy some chamomile, thank you.”

Sasha started mixing up the icing for the shortbread cookies while Micah and Elijah finished making and garnishing the hot drinks. Micah dumped so many marshmallows in his mug that it almost overflowed, then he dug into it with a spoon, ignoring the poorly-hidden laughter from the other two. The cocoa was thick and sweet and the marshmallows practically melted on his tongue. He grabbed a handful of gingersnaps once they were cool and traded off bites and sips from his rich mug. It was heaven, and he finished four, five, six. He reached for some more.

Elijah was nibbling at some of the shortbread cookies they’d set aside in the small “no frosting” pile, sipping at his mug of chamomile and looking very content. He passed different sprinkle shakers to Sasha as she asked for them, then moved away for a moment to dig in the fridge. He came back with a little tray of cheese, crackers, and bits of turkey.

“Hey!” Micah protested, as his second mug of hot chocolate suddenly disappeared. “I’m not done with that!”  
“I know.” Elijah’s eyes were amused as he handed Micah the tray. “But you need something other than sugar. Eat this before you eat any more cookies.”

Micah sighed, deciding to listen as he picked up some crackers and made a little sandwich. The crackers were crisp and buttery, and the cheese had a nice sharpness to it, which accented the dark slivers of roast turkey very well. He got himself a glass of milk and some more turkey after he’d finished, finding he was craving a bit more of the savory before going back to the sweet. The cold drink felt funny as it settled in his otherwise immensely warm tummy. He chuckled a little before giving a hiccup, which alerted Elijah from where he was standing next to Sasha, admiring her handiwork with the iced cookies.

“I’m fine! I’m totally okay.” Micah grinned up at his best friend as he came over to the barstools where Micah was sitting, putting an arm around him and smoothing his other palm over the slight bulge beneath his sweater. Micah laughed again at the way Elijah’s fingers rested atop his tummy, where it had rounded out, then sighed with deep satisfaction when his best friend began to massage gently. The comforting rub was so luxurious, and Micah felt rather full and very, very sleepy. He yawned and leaned against Elijah’s side.

“Dont fall asleep yet, you goose!” Sasha scolded, loading the cookies onto a big plate. “We were gonna watch Rudolph!”  
“We c’n watch it tomorrow.” Micah murmured, burying his cheek further into Elijah’s midriff. He felt his best friend rumble with a sound of confusion before a big hand began combing through his curls.  
“Why are you so sleepy today?” Elijah wondered aloud, his voice incredibly soft, every syllable laden with love, and all at once, Micah felt lucky beyond words.

“Maybe finals week is still catching up with me.” Micah blinked determinedly, getting to his feet and holding out his hands for a tray of cookies to carry into the living room. “El, could you get my hot chocolate for me?”

The three of them tucked themselves into the couch with a big quilt. Micah and Sasha cuddled up snug against one another and Elijah put one huge arm around both of them, Micah in the middle and his hand resting warmly on Sasha’ shoulder. The movie started and to keep himself awake, Micah stuffed down cookie after cookie, munching delightedly on Sasha’s little masterpieces of snowmen, reindeer, and Christmas trees. He’d go back for a gingersnap every now and again, and another gulp of sweet hot chocolate, when about halfway through the film, his belly jolted with a low grumble and he huffed in surprise.

“Enough cookies for you.” Elijah told him humorously, taking his then-empty mug and motioning for Sasha to move the tray out of reach. The girl giggled and obliged, then reached back over to press a hand to her boyfriend’s middle with an affectionate pat. 

Elijah took over tummy-rubbing duty a moment later, his broad, warm palm pressing and massaging, thumb stroking over the tightness above his navel, and Micah melted under the touch. He hiccuped again and groaned, feeling his tummy slosh heavily with cocoa and milk against the tickly sensation of his woven sweater. Sasha suddenly laughed and poked him gently in the side, then kissed his cheek before teasing him.

“Babe, your tummy is so round that the snowmen on your sweater look bigger than the trees!”  
“Leave him alone.” Elijah scolded with a smile, his eyes crinkling further in amusement at the haughty look Micah sent his girlfriend. “As long as… are you feeling alright, Micah?”  
“Mhm.” Micah yawned, snuggling closer, winding an arm around Sasha as well. “‘M good. Feel so good.”  
“Good.” Elijah whispered, and Micah nestled even closer when he felt a kiss pressed to his forehead a moment later.

Maybe Sasha and Elijah stayed awake to watch the rest of the movie, but Micah didn’t. He was asleep seconds later, his stuffed tummy grumbling happily around its meal of cheese, turkey, sugar, and chocolate. He felt warmer than he’d ever been in his life, surrounded by the two people he loved most and tucked away under flickering Christmas lights. The taste of marshmallows lingered on his lips.


	3. Lowered Inhibitions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (written for a prompt!): I see the "soothing rub" one being used kinda just after a comfortable stuffing. like the person (elijah or micah, i'm indecisive) didn't go over their limit and they were just straight up enjoying the food, and afterwards its a comfy lil rub end the day. snuggles not mandatory but Very Much Welcomed.

“No.” Elijah’s fingers closed around Micah’s wrist, unyielding in a way only he could be. “Where’re you going?”

“To turn the damn light off dude, it’s midnight.” Micah rolled his eyes and pried at Elijah’s fingers. “We gotta get some sleep. I’ll be right back!”

“Nnno. Stay here.” Elijah slurred, grunting in irritation when Micah squirmed out of his firm but gentle grip anyways. “Hey.”

“I’m not even leaving the room, look. See?” Micah stepped over to the lightswitch on the wall, flicked it off, and grabbed the extra quilt that they’d pushed to the end of the bed. He crawled back up next to where Elijah lay and sighed good-naturedly when his best friend perked up out of his pout and reached for him gleefully.

“You are so fucking drunk.” Micah shook his head as he settled into the cuddle, smiling to himself. Elijah hugged him tight with a hum of contentment.

“I’m not drunk.” He insisted, very drunkenly.

“Yeah, that’s what all drunks say.” Micah chuckled, poking the swell of Elijah’s tummy with a smirk. He laughed again a moment later when Elijah immediately shifted, pushing his belly out demandingly. Micah grinned, resting a hand over the curve, deciding to tease a little. “What do you want me to do with _this_ , you bastard?”

“Rub my stomach.” Elijah hummed drowsily, eyes already closed as he pulled Micah closer. “Please?”

“Your tummy doesn’t hurt, does it?” Micah decided to check, rubbing a little circle when he felt it grumble beneath his hand. Elijah shook his head, arching into the touch a little more. “Mmmno. Just full.”

Micah grinned mischievously and faked indifference. “Ask me to rub your _tummy_ and maybe I’ll think about it.” He wasn’t actually sure that Elijah would play along, and if he didn’t, Micah would still give him a tummy rub after having a laugh, but then–

Elijah hiccuped sleepily. “Rub my tummy.” He reached out and took Micah’s other hand, splaying it over his own belly while Micah burst into laughter. “Please? Feels good.”

“Dude, I was just _teasing_.” Micah wheezed, pressing down with the palms of his hands, massaging deep, warm circles against Elijah’s swollen stomach. His best friend groaned happily and sank further into the pillow. “Shit, I need to get you drunk more often. Sasha’s dad _did_ warn you to stay away from that avesian ale, though.”

“Wanted to try it.” Elijah mumbled, more or less slowly melting into a puddle of relaxation.

“Sure seemed to _me_ like you just can’t help but take every single warning someone gives you as a damn _challenge_.”

“Hnn.”

Micah smirked and shook his head again, feeling his own tummy carefully when it gurgled with a small comment of its own. It had taken ages to get Elijah to agree to come over with him to Sasha’s place for a weekend dinner, but it had been so fucking worth it. They’d eaten so much and had such a good time. 

“You okay?” Elijah wondered aloud, reaching for Micah’s tummy with one big hand, rubbing soothingly as Micah hiccuped himself and giggled.

“I’m fine, El. I’m just really full, too.” Micah let himself be captured and pulled into Elijah’s chest as his friend kept massaging at his waist. He stifled a burp and turned further into the embrace with a happy smile. “You can let me keep rubbing your tummy, okay? I know how much you like it.”

Even drunk and sleepy, Elijah hesitated. But then he grunted in assent and draped his arms more loosely around Micah, pushing his big tummy out once more. He hummed in pleasure when Micah’s hands began to stroke over the swell, scratching lightly in places, cradling the heavy feeling away.

Micah tried to keep a steady pattern of wide, soothing circles over Elijah’s stuffed belly, content in the knowledge that his best friend was feeling so good and relaxed, but soon found his own eyelids drooping. He yawned and slowly grew still, and the last thing he felt before he drifted off was Elijah’s fingers ruffling his curls.

“Love you, Micah.” Elijah whispered.


	4. Taste Test

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (written for a prompt!): Can we request off the soft belly meme you reblogged? I'd love to see "cooking food and offering their hungry partner a spoonful to taste that only whets their appetite more" from that list with your boys!

“Micah. You are going to burn yourself if you are not careful.”

Micah grimaced and stopped trying to reach around Elijah’s elbow with the fork in his hand. His friend was cooking something on the skillet and it smelled amazing. It _looked_ like a simple chicken pasta but Micah was very familiar with Elijah’s ability to make even simple dishes irresistible.

“El, I’m _starving_.” Micah complained, tossing the fork back on the counter in a huff and crossing his arms over his grumbling tummy. “Couldn’t I just have a _taste?_ ” Said grumbling tummy suddenly let out a particularly loud growl and Micah felt his face flush.

Elijah was very clearly trying to hide a smirk of amusement and Micah scowled at him further, but his best friend didn’t acknowledge his sourpuss attitude. “It will be ready very soon, I promise. You could always get a small snack or something to drink if you are feeling too hungry to wait?”

“I want _that_.” Micah whined, leaning back against the cabinets in the most disgruntled way he could manage. Finally, Elijah’s amusement broke through, and he chuckled softly.

“Alright, Micah, you can have a taste.” Elijah reached out and picked up the fork that Micah had abandoned, scooping up a bite of the pasta and holding it up to cool for a moment before offering it to Micah, who _technically_ reached to take it with his hand, but he closed his lips around the mouthful at the same time his fingers gripped the utensil.

“M _mm_.” It was _so_ good. Micah closed his eyes and failed to smack Elijah for the slightly louder laugh he got in response to his sudden shiver of pleasure.

The sauce was creamy and rich, almost buttery on his tongue, and carried notes of basil. The pasta noodles had the perfect chew to them; even more so than the chicken itself, which fell apart between his teeth. He brought his fingers to his lips, almost worried he’d start drooling as he chewed, and he bit down into the slightly firmer texture of a cube of broccoli, steamed and finished in the sauce.

“Oh Goddesses, that’s so fucking good.” Micah groaned dramatically, then his tummy clenched and snarled loudly, and he wrapped an arm back over it as he sank to the floor, filled with regret. “Ugh, I made a mistake.”

“You are even hungrier now, hm?” Elijah teased lightly, giving the food another stir and sprinkling something over the pan.

Micah thumped the back of his head against a cabinet, making a face. “ _Dammit_.”

Mercifully, Elijah shooed him over to the table not ten minutes later, handing him a full plate and a fork and pouring them both full glasses of milk as he sat down across from him with his own food. He warned Micah to eat more slowly twice, and Micah tried to listen, but it was hard not to shovel it in as fast as possible. It was so _delicious_ and he had been waiting for at least an hour while the appetizing aroma filled the apartment as Elijah tended the stove.

By the time Micah finished his second heaping plateful though, he was full and thankfully still comfortable. He rested a hand over the slight bulge of his tummy, sinking back in his chair in a sleepy, contented daze. His best friend smiled indulgently at him over the table before getting another helping for himself, methodically eating through _three_ platefuls, polishing off the rest of the food and sipping down the last of his milk. For a brief moment, Micah worried Elijah hadn’t eaten his fill since he’d waited for him to finish first, but then his best friend pressed a few fingers over his lips to cover a quiet burp, and Micah couldn’t help but chuckle a little. Nah, Elijah was full too.

They _could_ potentially work on homework, but the sun was warming the couch and it was much easier to snuggle into a pile there and jointly decide a nap was in order. Micah slid a hand over to rub at the very slight curve of Elijah’s belly, really just because he knew how much he liked it, but Elijah could never let a comforting touch go unreciprocated. He folded a broad, warm palm over Micah’s tummy as well and made little circles with his fingers that had Micah’s eyelids fluttering in moments.

It was a very, very good nap.


	5. Pizza Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys head over to Sasha’s house for an afternoon and the three of them make homemade pizza! Micah enjoys himself to the fullest (pun intended).

“Hey, come on. Fucking _behemoth_. Hey. Get… _nngh_ … up! Elijah!”

Elijah had, in fact, been awake from moment Micah had eased the bedroom door open, padding in quietly, and gently — then not so gently — shaking at him in a bid to rouse him from the bed. However, he was finding his best friend’s mounting exasperation to be supremely amusing. Did Micah really think he was _sleeping_ through this?

He gave a light snore that he was sure sounded forced, and pretended to roll over in his sleep, barely biting back a chuckle when Micah groaned dramatically and clamored up on the bed next to him, grabbing a pillow and whacking him with it.

“Okay! I know you’re faking now! You can get up! Come on El, I’m starving. It’s like ten in the morning!”

Elijah cracked an eye open and gazed at Micah humorously for a split second, then swiftly and deftly reached out with both arms, capturing him and pulling him down, snug against his chest. Micah groaned and struggled, completely futilely.

“Lazy ass.”

“Micah.” Elijah said softly, combing his fingers through his best friend’s curls affectionately and rubbing his back a little, hoping to convince him to at least give him a cuddle before continuing to drag him, by power of will alone, into the kitchen. “I believe you are underestimating how very little I sleep when you are not around.”

Micah hefted a sigh, then gave in, settling his head down on Elijah’s shoulder and wrapping an arm around him, squeezing tight. Elijah felt a rush of pure joy and closed his eyes again, breathing slowly and evenly so Micah would be comfortable atop his chest.

“Sorry. Didn’t think about that. You can go back to sleep if you want.”

“Mmm. No, I think I am ready to get up. I only wanted a moment.” 

The moment passed, and Elijah pressed a kiss to Micah’s temple before slowly and laboriously getting to his feet and following his best friend into the kitchen. He got out a skillet and some sausage from the freezer, eggs from the fridge, and lit the stove. 

“What time did you want to leave to head to Sasha’s, today?” Elijah asked, turning the sausage links over and giving the eggs a poke. They’d planned a rare occasion for the three of them to spend some time together, outside of school and the company of their other friends. Not that they wouldn’t be happy to do so more often; Elijah was simply rarely available to begin with.

“Eh, she’s a late sleeper, too.” Micah thought aloud. “Maybe sometime after lunch? We can _hhf_ —“ he huffed a little when Elijah’s hands hooked under his shoulders, lifting him smoothly and setting him on the counter facing him, then continued, “—call her around one or so. Then we’d still have the whole afternoon and evening to hang out.”

“That sounds reasonable.” Elijah agreed, reaching up to get some plates. Micah pulled out some glasses from the cabinet behind his head and set them on the counter helpfully. “Did you still want to take food with us, when we go?”

“Yeah, for sure. Everything on campus is closed on the weekends so unless we cook or take something, we’d have to take a shit long bus ride back into town.”

“Did you have any ideas in mind?”

“Kinda been craving pizza, actually.”

Elijah gave Micah a look as he filled their plates, and his best friend pouted slightly.

“I know! I know… but I could grab a sandwich or something first? As long as it isn’t the _only_ thing I eat, then it’s usually fine.”

“Usually.” Elijah conceded, getting the milk from the fridge and coming back to the counter. They’d found through a series of attempts, both intentional and non, that as long as Micah did something to “buffer” his stomach against greasy food, it didn’t bother him as much. Usually. “But I would hate to see you unable to enjoy the afternoon over it. What if we simply picked up some groceries and made our own? I’m certain Sasha would be willing. We could make it very enjoyable.”

Micah looked stunned. “We could make pizza?”

Elijah squinted at him. “Micah. Pizza is a food. You can… make food.”

Micah smacked him on the shoulder somewhat aggressively, and Elijah tried not to smirk at the way he shook his fingers lightly afterwards. That had probably stung his hand. “You asshole! That’s not what I meant! I just thought it might be kinda complicated or… I dunno, need a special kind of oven?”

“Of course not.” Elijah took Micah’s hand in his and rubbed his thumb over the back of his knuckles, hoping to chase away any pins and needles. “Cooking pizza at home is far from difficult. I suppose it can be a bit time-consuming, but since we are spending an afternoon with Sasha for fun regardless, it might be the perfect activity.”

Micah hopped down from the counter a moment later and they sat at the table to eat their breakfast, snagging the bowl of fruit on their way and discussing what kind of ingredients to pick up. Elijah stretched out on the couch once he was full to take a nap, waking for only a moment, then going right back to sleep when Micah sat on his legs, wriggling into a comfortable place as he turned on the TV.

Close to 1pm, Micah called Sasha to announce they were on their way over, and to ask if she thought it would be fun to make their own pizza. She readily agreed, requested pesto sauce for the grocery list, and told them she had drinks in the fridge, so not to bother with that. The boys got dressed and Micah grabbed his backpack, and then they were on their way out the door.

The housing complex around Sasha’s condo was lively with weekend activity, but the girl had let them know ahead of time that this weekend her roommates would be out, so they’d have the building to themselves. Elijah took the groceries in hand so his best friend could greet his girlfriend, moving to the counter to set everything down.

“Hey boys!” Sasha gave a delighted Micah an enthusiastic kiss, wings fluttering. “I was beginning to think that you two had taken the wrong bus or something!”

“Nah, we just got caught up in deciding what kinds of pizza to make.” Micah grinned, scratching her back between her wings, just the way she liked it, and giggled as she draped herself in his arms in bliss. “El had the idea that we could just make a bunch of personal pizza sizes and fix them up however we like!”

“Speaking of which, you skipped right on past me and didn’t even say hi, Elijah!” Sasha complained, pecking Micah’s cheek once more before turning to the older boy, hands on her hips. He disentangled himself from the grocery bags and came back to give her a hug, protesting sheepishly.

“My hands were full!”

She laughed and gave him a squeeze, then a push back the way he’d come. He hesitated for a moment before realizing she was trying to move him, and obligingly stepped in the other direction.

“So, what did you two bring to make?”

“Mostly ‘base’ ingredients with a variety of toppings.” Elijah told her, pulling a can out of a bag. “Tomato and pesto sauces, shredded cheese, meat and vegetables— we decided to make fresh dough instead of buying it frozen, so we have flour and yeast as well.”

“We figured we could use your salt.” Micah giggled, joining the other two at the counter and helping to set out the groceries. 

“Absolutely not.” Sasha teased, surprising a chuckle out of even Elijah. “There will be no salt sharing in this house.”

There was very much salt sharing in that house, and the three of them happily set to work, making and kneading the dough and setting it to rise while they portioned out plates and bowls of toppings. Pepperoni, sausage bits, chicken, bacon; basil, spinach, and bell peppers, and lastly—

“Aw, come on babe, no way.” Sasha pulled out a whole pineapple from the last bag on the counter. “Pineapple on pizza is gross!”

“You don’t have to have any!” Micah retorted with a grin, gingerly grabbing it back, mindful of the spines, and handed it to Elijah to cut it. 

They divided the dough into individual pizza-portions once it had risen, spreading them with scoops of tomato sauce or pesto, sprinkling cheese over the top. Sasha made hers with bits of chicken and bell peppers, and Elijah used spinach, basil, and sausage. He didn’t make more than one for himself, as he was pretty sure that Micah was going to go a little overboard.

“There’s no way you’re eating three of those by yourself.” Sasha giggled as they loaded them into the racks of the oven, and Micah grinned.

“Nah, but this is the best way to try a bunch of stuff! I never get to eat pizza like I want to so I really wanna enjoy it today! We can always save the leftovers.”

“Or Elijah can eat them.” Sasha poked him and he gave her a good-natured look.

“I can eat _some_ of them. But I am not above putting away leftovers.”

Micah smirked at him. “Yeah, tell me that again the next time you have a plate of crab in front of your— _mph!_ ”

Elijah wrapped an arm around Micah’s head and bent him over his arm, lifting him into the air as he yelped and squirmed, carrying him over to Sasha’s low corner sofa.

“Okay you’ve made your fucking point! Put me down!”

They got comfortable on the couch with their food once it was done, turning the channel to a comedy film and passing around bottles of water and soda. Elijah hummed in appreciation as he bit into the first slice; he’d actually begun to feel rather hungry, and he was sure Micah had been too. Out of the corner of one eye, he kept a vigilant watch on his best friend as he talked with Sasha and watched TV, laughing along with the jokes on screen.

Micah’s first pizza was a tomato-sauce-and-mozzerella, topped with the freshly cut pineapple, shreds of basil, and dotted with pepperoni. A lightly sweet and spicy smell wafted up from his plate, and he seemed to really enjoy it, taking strategic bites to include every topping in each mouthful. When he finished the last bite of his last slice, he hiccuped once around a swallow of soda, and Elijah put an arm around him, gently feeling over his belly. 

“I’m totally fine, El.” Micah scolded, but then Elijah pressed down with the pads of his fingers just over the swell beneath his ribs, and he had to raise a hand to stifle a burp, glancing in mortification at Sasha, who only laughed and tousled his curls. Elijah smiled indulgently, a touch relieved. The homemade pizza seemed to have done the trick; his best friend’s stomach felt warm and full against his palm, but lacked the sharp twinges and muffled rumbles he’d come to associate with Micah’s digestive upset. He was practically melting under his touch too, drowsily blinking as Elijah rubbed comforting circles over his belly. 

Sasha had finished what she’d wanted of her pizza, putting away the last two slices and coming back to the couch, grinning at her boyfriend as he struggled to sit up and reach for another pizza he made. “C’mon babe, aren’t you full? You don’t want to make yourself sick!”

“I won’t!” Micah protested, lifting a pesto-chicken-and-bacon slice from his plate. “I’m kinda full yeah, but I haven’t even tried these other two yet! And I can eat more than this.”

“He’s alright, for now.” Elijah assured Sasha with a softness in his eyes when the girl settled back down on her boyfriend’s other side and snuggled up to his shoulder, folding a wing back against the couch. “I will stop him before he goes too far.”

“You guys are not allowed to talk about me like I’m not sitting in the middle here.” Micah grumped and Sasha laughed, and Elijah quieted with another smile.

Micah started breathing a little shallowly once he was halfway through the second pizza, and Elijah deftly slid the plate away, ignoring his best friend’s mild protest in favor of laying his hand over the swell of Micah’s stomach. All resistance pretty much instantly ceased as he pressed down gently, rubbing circles with a comforting pressure. Micah groaned a little and arched into the touch, and Elijah worked a thumb down the tense muscles of his side, trying to massage away the tightness he could feel. His best friend rested heavily against his chest and Elijah felt a rush of warm love for him, laying his cheek over his soft head for a moment and closing his eyes.

He chuckled incredulously a moment later though when Micah wriggled and reached for the third pizza, dressed with tomato sauce and cheese and all the meat toppings at once. He caught his hand in his own, squeezing his fingers and rubbing his other hand under the bulge of Micah’s belly, which grumbled faintly against his palm. “Micah, I think you are done.”

“Almost. But I just want to try the last one! I’ll just eat a piece and call it a day.”

Elijah pressed in with the heel of his hand against Micah’s pleasantly stuffed stomach, rocking the motion just a tad to work up another small belch, silently apologizing for embarrassing him in front of Sasha again but knowing he’d need the room if he was really going to try to keep eating. Sure enough, Micah flushed and Sasha grinned, patting his back.

“Don’t be so bashful, baby! As long as you’re enjoying yourself, you’re not going to gross me out.”

“Okay.” Micah squeaked, very bashfully, and Elijah passed him a single slice of the last pizza, taking one for himself as well so his best friend might not feel quite so awkward, eating alone. He was still a little hungry, anyways.

“Just take very slow bites and take a break if you need to.” Elijah told him softly, ruffling his curls and biting into his own slice. He’d finished that, and most of another piece when Micah swallowed the last bite of crust and groaned, his belly echoing the sentiment with a low gurgle.

“Do I need to get out the heating pad?” Sasha giggled softly, squeezing her boyfriend’s arm and kissing his cheek, just before Elijah carefully moved to cradle Micah more fully in his arms and place both hands over the swell of his belly, stroking and rubbing evenly.

“I’m okay.” Micah sighed in a daze, squirming against the massage when Elijah methodically pressed out a little cramp before it built up too far. “Man, that was so fucking good…”

“I am happy you enjoyed it.” Elijah told him warmly, smoothing a palm over the roundness of his friend’s swollen stomach. He was very happy actually; Micah had eaten as much as he wanted and didn’t seem to be suffering at all for it. He was already sinking deep into his hold, lolling against his shoulder. He was taking careful breaths, but they were calm and relaxed. None of that catching on the exhale that meant he was in pain, or accompanied by the uneasy swallowing that indicated nausea.

Micah’s eyelids fluttered and he yawned. “Kinda wanna sleep…”

“You should.” Sasha told him, picking up the remote to begin flipping through channels again. “I wanted a sort of lazy day today anyways. Which is why I’m glad you two decided to come over here instead of us meeting up on campus again. I’ll probably fall asleep right next to you in a few minutes and El can stay on lookout duty.”

“I will be vigilant.” Elijah promised both of them with an amused smile, and Micah giggled in his arms and hiccuped slightly. Elijah rubbed another circle over his belly, tracing and pressing a pattern with his fingertips that eased up another quiet belch, and Micah seemed too out of it to flush with shame that time.

No less than half an hour later, and Elijah was the only one remaining awake, watching over the other two as they slept, Sasha curled against his arm and Micah’s shoulder, dozing serenely. Micah himself had been lightly snoring for twenty minutes, and his belly grumbled leisurely against Elijah’s palms, and he rubbed very slowly and affectionately, so as not to wake him. 

The whole afternoon had been a supreme success, and Elijah smiled to himself at the thought that they’d certainly have to make an effort to do this more often.


	6. Ya Gotta Eat Something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ((honestly one thing that always gets me in fics is when someone asks the last time someone ate, especially if it was quite some time ago, and then just stuffing them to the brim to make up for it - anon))
> 
> Filled request: Elijah’s so behind on sleep he’s gotten a little grumpy. Micah gets him into bed and orders pizza so he can eat his fill before passing out, then rubs his best friend’s belly when he eats a little too much. ♡

Micah smirked to himself at the little offended grunt Elijah gave him, as Micah gave him a gentle push through the door and closed it behind them. “Seriously, dude, you weren’t _actually_ going to leave campus without talking to me, were you?”

“You—“ Elijah pointed at him, his blue eyes foggy with weariness, “—were with other friends, and I—“ he pointed to himself, “—am exhausted, and will be very poor company for the next several hours. I was going to _message_ you.” The two of them had crossed paths that evening by chance, as Micah left a late lab and Elijah left the science library. Of course, Micah had immediately latched on and dragged his best friend back to his dorm.

“I haven’t seen you since Thursday, El!” Micah tossed his hands out incredulously. “Hell, I’m not gonna hang around to chat with my lab group when you’ve been gone for four days. When did you get back?”

Elijah rubbed at his eyes. “I have been on campus for less than two hours. I was merely handing in some missed assignments to one of my professors. I… didn’t mean to make you think that I didn’t want to see you…” He took a step towards Micah and swayed the tiniest amount.

“Aw, geez, El.” Micah took Elijah by the crook of his arm and tugged. “I’m not mad or upset or anything, you just took me by surprise, is all. Just come sit your dumb ass down for a second.” He smiled in relief as his friend moved towards the bed and sank down without protest. He only made the smallest sound of surprise when Micah pulled him down to lay across the mattress, head in his lap, the rest of his body slumping into exhausted surrender over the comforter.

“Bad move.” Elijah grunted in a way that Micah had to laugh at.

“Bad move how?” Micah giggled, digging in his backpack with one hand, his other softly stroking over the back of Elijah’s head, feeling the dampness of his freshly-washed hair. Not that he doubted his best friend’s explanation, but he smiled at the small proof that Elijah really had only just gotten back.

“I can’t get up again.” Elijah mumbled, his fingers curling over Micah’s knee. He hummed quietly when Micah patted his shoulder.

“You can just spend the night here. Austin’s out for some kind of family thing. Otherwise I probably would have just followed _you_ home.” Micah grinned, fishing out his laptop to set on the bed beside him. He tugged the elastic band out of Elijah’s hair and smoothed it out so it would dry a little faster. “I guess you don’t have any comfy clothes with you though or anything?”

“Probably would have fallen asleep in what I’m wearing anyways, once back at the apartment.” Elijah assured him, turning over a little with a small groan so he could wind an arm around Micah’s back. “You sure?”

“That you can stay here?” Micah snorted. “Duh. You can go ahead to sleep, if you want. I might stay up and work on homework some, but I’ll just stretch out with you when I’m done.”

“Mmm.” Elijah gave Micah’s back an affectionate little scratch. “Thank you, Micah.”

“No problem, you giant fucking behemoth.” Micah patted his friend’s head again. “Get some sleep.”

The next thirty minutes passed in incredibly comforting peace. It started to drizzle outside, and the patter of raindrops against the window brushed the pane with gold each time a car’s headlights flashed by outside. Micah flipped through notes on his screen with one hand, muttering review terms to himself beneath his breath, his other arm loosely draped over Elijah’s shoulders, the warm blanket bunched up around them both. His best friend slept deeply; legs dangling off the bed, one hand tucked up near his face on Micah’s lap, his other curled around Micah’s waist. Then, abruptly, his brow pinched slightly and he squirmed once, before going still again.

Micah frowned and rubbed Elijah’s shoulder. Bad dreams? Maybe if he played some soft music or something, they’d go away? He didn’t really want to wake Elijah if he could avoid it… 

Micah reached for his phone but just as he did, Elijah’s stomach growled, loudly and plaintively, and Micah stopped and rolled his eyes. Of fucking course. He probably should have checked about that before they’d gotten situated on the bed.

“El.” Micah shook his friend’s shoulder after giving him a squeeze. Elijah grunted but didn’t move. “Come on, fuckface, wake up. Your tummy’s growling. Ya gotta eat something.” Micah shook his shoulder again, more insistently. “Elijah, come on.”

Elijah groaned and opened his eyes, turning his face up to squint at Micah, a drowsy, confused blue. Then his face screwed up just a little before his stomach growled again and he moved a hand to hold it irritably.

“When’s the last time you ate something?” Micah asked dryly, shifting his weight and ignoring his best friend’s protest as he reached a hand over to where Elijah was clutching at his middle. Inaudible growls rumbled under his fingers. “I’m guessing it’s been a while, huh?”

“Just a day.” Elijah tried to squirm away, pushing Micah’s hand off his belly. “Micah, I’m too tired to—“

“We don’t have to go anywhere, you don’t even have to move.” Micah said immediately, smiling when Elijah hesitated, relaxing slightly. “I have this coupon thing for like a five ren large pizza delivery. It’d be really quick.”

Elijah was frowning again. “Pizza upsets your tummy.”

“Yeah, that’s why I haven’t used it yet. But I ate like five minutes before I ran into you, El. I’m not hungry. And did you just say ‘tummy?’”

“I most certainly did.” Elijah retorted, sleepy and annoyed, and Micah barked a laugh.

“I can just put in the order real quick, you can doze til it gets here, and then just let me wake you up for a couple slices before you go back to sleep?” Micah combed his fingers through the soft wisps of hair above Elijah’s ear, smiling in affection as his friend relaxed further. “That doesn’t sound so bad, right?”

Elijah met Micah’s gaze a touch sheepishly and opened his mouth, only to close it again to swallow as his stomach growled pitifully once more, his cheeks turning a little pink.

Micah chuckled and carefully eased out from under Elijah, grabbing a pillow for his best friend to put his head on instead. “You still like ham and spinach on your pizza right?”

When Elijah agreed, Micah called the delivery place and gave them the code from the coupon, smiling when they gave him a delivery estimate of less than half an hour. Not wanting to disturb Elijah, he took the wait as an opportunity to pick up some of the clothes he’d left on the floor for about a week, nonetheless stealing a glance at his best friend every so often. Elijah very much _appeared_ to be still trying to sleep, but the faint grimace on his face and the arm he’d curled surreptitiously over his middle told Micah his insistence on pizza had been the right thing to do. His friend would sleep better with a full stomach, anyways.

“You poor bastard.” Micah muttered, setting a cup of water for Elijah on the nightstand after checking his watch. “Seriously, El, no one thinks it’s normal to go without eating for ‘just a day’ except _you_.”

Elijah didn’t move or answer him, so Micah wasn’t sure he’d heard, but it felt satisfying to assert anyways, he thought with a smirk. He cleared his laptop and books off the other end of the bed as quietly as he could so they could set the pizza down, then grabbed his student card and eased the door open, so he could jog down to the lobby and meet the delivery person. 

The food smelled amazing, and would have been irresistible had Micah not eaten his fill on turkey subs at the small bakery kiosk just outside his lab building earlier. He balanced the box carefully in one hand, opening his door with the other, and grabbed his lapdesk so the grease from the underside of the pizza box wouldn’t seep onto his bedsheets.

“Hey dude, food’s here.” Micah set the box down and reached to shake Elijah’s shoulder, sighing when he realized his friend really had fallen deeply back asleep. “Aw, El, come on, just get up and eat a little, okay? You can go right back to sleep once your tummy’s full.” 

Elijah pried his eyes open as Micah continued to shake him, grunting something irritably underneath his breath. Then in an abrupt motion he reached out, captured Micah, and sat up, hauling him into his lap as Micah giggled. He messed up his curls after grasping both his wrists in _one_ hand and subduing all his struggles with the ease of someone fending off a stray kitten. “I haven’t slept in almost three days, Micah. Stop waking me up.” He _did_ sound fairly exasperated, despite the unfailing gentleness of his grip.

“No wonder you’re so cranky.” Micah giggled again, feeling Elijah’s belly grumble against his back. “I won’t wake you up again, okay? Just eat something and then you can go right back to sleep, for however long you want.”

Elijah sighed, let go of Micah’s wrists, then wound his arms more warmly around him and gave him a soft squeeze. “Thank you for getting the pizza.”

“You’re welcome.” Micah smiled and scrambled off his best friend’s lap, getting a paper plate and handing Elijah two slices from the still-steaming box. “Careful, it’s really hot.”

Elijah cautiously nibbled off the tip of his first slice while Micah reached for his laptop again, a comfortable silence falling as Elijah ate and the rain drizzled down outside. Micah squinted at his homework for about half a second before sighing, saving the worksheet, and opening up a game on his phone instead. He’d done enough work for the day, he could get back to it tomorrow.

Something poked the back of his hand and Micah looked up, just in time for Elijah to push something bready into his palm. Micah frowned at the pizza crust in confusion. “What’s this, dude?” Then he blinked in astonishment. “Did you eat a whole fucking slice _already?_ ”

“Non greasy part of the pizza.” Elijah huffed softly, answering the first question, and picking up his second slice in a wordless answer to the other. He bit off nearly a third of the slice in one bite.

“Whoa, El, slow down! Don’t eat so fast—“ Micah reached for the cup of water he’d filled and quickly handed it to his best friend. “Here, drink something. What do you want me to do with this?” He held out the pizza crust in bewilderment.

“Eat it?” Elijah answered, abruptly sounding just as confused. “It’s very good, and it shouldn’t upset your stomach since there is no grease on it.”

“Oh.” Micah sat back and laughed. “Whatever the _opposite_ of food envy is, you have it.” He bit into the end of the crust, humming in satisfaction. The bread was still warm and lightly browned, and past the initial crunch, was soft and airy and chewy. By the time he polished it off, Elijah was already handing him the second crust.

“Okay, I’ll eat this one too, but seriously dude, you don’t have to worry about me, I ate two sandwiches and a bag of chips earlier.” Micah chuckled, reaching for the pizza box to set between the two of them so Elijah could reach it better. “Just don’t eat so fast; you’re always telling _me_ to slow down. You’ll give yourself a tummyache.”

“I’m alright.” Elijah insisted, scooping another couple of slices out of the box onto his plate. He leaned back against the wall behind the bed and kept eating, though it did seem as though he made an effort to slow down, picking his bites to get pieces of ham and spinach in each one. He paused periodically to sip some water and politely brush crumbs from his mouth with his napkin.

Micah watched his friend scarf down the slices at a slower-but-still-ravenous pace, and smirked softly when Elijah reached for the box again after swallowing down the last bits of crust. “You’ve eaten like half the pizza El, you’re not getting full? Maybe you should stop for a few minutes or something.”

“Mm.” Elijah raised a hand to his mouth to muffle a burp that seemed to take him by surprise. “I’m alright.” He repeated, then covered a yawn next and picked up another slice of pizza, his eyes falling half-lidded as he chewed his first bites of it. Micah shook his head in amusement and decided to just let him eat. It had to feel good, getting to fill up after a few days of chasing meals and sleep.

He went back to the game on his phone after getting up to refill Elijah’s water, starting to feel a little sleepy himself from the warmth and coziness of having finished a long day, a good meal, and having his best friend safe and sound next to him. Micah yawned and checked the time and it wasn’t too long before he’d normally go to bed, anyways. 

Micah rolled over slightly towards the end of the bed so he could reach down and plug his phone into its charger, but as he did, he heard someone groan softly, as if the slight movement of the mattress had disturbed them. Micah smirked over his shoulder at his friend before moving the pizza box and cuddling up to his side, chuckling. “You done? You sound done.”

“I’m done.” Elijah murmured, sounding dazed, one hand resting over his middle and stroking at the swell of his stuffed tummy a little, his fingers making little soothing circles. Micah reached over to take the paper plate, which still had half a slice on it, then he stole another glance at the box and realized there was only one slice left there. He couldn’t help but laugh.

“Dude, you ate almost the entire thing.” Micah patted his friend’s shoulder, getting another low groan, then reached for Elijah’s swollen stomach. “Here, you okay? Want me to rub your tummy for you?” 

“I’m… okay.” Elijah hiccuped as Micah pressed a palm to his belly, his brow knitting slightly as he groaned again, squirming a little under the rub. He started to stretch out a little more, awkwardly shifting his weight on the bed before going still again, looking just a little cross-eyed when Micah kneaded gently over the tightest place he could feel on his best friend’s tummy. 

“That _was_ a lot of bread.” Micah giggled in amusement when Elijah grunted breathlessly, suddenly raising a hand to gently push Micah’s hands away, rolling away a bit. He cradled his belly with his hand again just before he began to tug at the buttons on the front of his shirt. He seemed to bite back a faint sigh of relief once he’d loosened them and shrugged off the button-down, his white t-shirt not quite so tight over his middle.

“You weren’t really gonna sleep in this anyways, were you? Micah asked dryly, taking the shirt and standing up to drape it over the back of his desk chair, so it’d get as few wrinkles as possible. When he came back to the bed, Elijah had undone his pants button too, and was just lying in a dazed heap, holding his big tummy with both hands.

“You’re ridiculous.” Micah laughed, crawling up next to him and brushing his best friend’s hands out of the way, so he could reach to rub a little better. He rubbed big circles over the mound of his friend’s belly, pressing in with his fingers over the tight places he could feel, stroking his palms in repetitive, soothing patterns over the swollen curve. Elijah’s soft groans became less stupefied and more happy and content.

“Thought you would’ve passed back out by now.” Micah pointed out with a grin, working the edge of his palm down into the tight place just under his friend’s ribs. The wheeze of delight he got in response made him laugh again.

“Nnngh…” Elijah arched up into the pressure a little and closed his eyes. He sighed, seeming to hesitate, then just mumbled, “Full.” and let his head loll to the side. He covered Micah’s hand with his own over where Micah had returned to rubbing wide, soothing circles and pressed in a little over a low gurgle.

“Too full to _sleep?_ ” Micah patted at Elijah’s stuffed tummy, shaking his head. “Or so full you don’t feel comfy enough to sleep?” When he got a quiet sound of agreement, he pushed his hand up against the heavy curve of Elijah’s stomach and massaged back and forth, feeling his friend relax even further, and smiled softly. “You feel any better? Think you could fall asleep now?”

“Mhmm…” Elijah squirmed and rolled over towards Micah, tucking a huge arm around him and giving a gentle squeeze. “Thank you, Micah…”

“Anytime, you dumb behemoth.” Micah cuddled closer, still rubbing at Elijah’s tummy with one hand, and smiled into his best friend’s chest. “If my alarm wakes you up in the morning, you can just go back to sleep and leave whenever you’re ready, okay?”

“Mmkay.” Elijah agreed with what was evidently his last shred of consciousness, his entire body going slack a second later as he fell asleep. His belly rumbled softly against Micah’s side and Micah couldn’t stop a soft giggle.

Micah had a few minutes to hope that he could actually get _out_ of Elijah’s embrace once nine am rolled around, before he shrugged, deciding that was a problem for the morning. He smiled to himself as he closed his eyes and drifted off, safe and warm next to his best friend, while the rain fell outside.


	7. Scritches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ((written for a prompt! a "type of belly rub": Scritches - Very gentle rubbing all over with just the tips of the fingers. Your dog loves these, why wouldn’t you?))

Micah was soundly dozing, enjoying a nap on the quad in the warm sun after a big lunch, dreaming cheerfully about his highschool senior kayaking trip, when something poked at his tummy outside the haze of sleep. He scowled without opening his eyes and rolled over, burying his cheek further into his arm, but the offender tickled at him again. He grumbled under his breath. “Lemme ‘lone.”

“It is almost time for class, Micah.” A familiar, amused voice said from somewhere beside him. Micah sighed and pried his eyes open to see Elijah looking down at him fondly.

“Wanna sleep.” Micah complained, rolling over onto his back with reluctance. His tummy was still full and slightly round under his shirt, and he frowned bashfully as Elijah patted at the bulge with a smile.

“You can take another nap after class.” Elijah told him, curling his fingers and beginning to trail his hand over Micah’s stretched sides. He scritched ever so lightly with his fingernails and traced a rousing pattern over the swollen curve and Micah wriggled, half-heartedly kicking a foot towards his best friend’s knee. “Stoppit.”

“If you would prefer me to _carry_ you to class, I can do that.” Elijah sounded far too smug, massaging with his thumb against Micah’s tummy, provoking a hiccup. “But we are _going_ to class.”

“You–” Micah started, then gasped aloud when Elijah lifted his other hand and shamelessly tickled and scratched over his belly with _both_ hands. Micah couldn’t help it, he burst into giggles, pausing only to hiccup again.

“Okay! Okay – I’m up! Cut it out–!” Micah shoved at Elijah’s wrists and scrambled to his knees, hugging his tummy protectively. He felt Elijah pat his back and shot his best friend a wry look.

“Class.” Elijah insisted with a smile, getting to his feet, picking up Micah’s bag and tucking the strap over his shoulder. He reached down again to pull Micah to his feet, ruffling his curls once he was there. 

Micah rolled his eyes and took Elijah’s hand, tugging him along the sidewalk towards the bus stop. “Well hurry it up dude, if you want to get there so badly.”

“Wrong way, Micah.” Elijah chuckled and pulled him backwards a little. “It is Wednesday. I believe you are heading for your Tuesday afternoon class location.”

“I’m still half asleep.” Micah huffed, turning around. He fully intended to go around Elijah and start pulling him in the other direction, but his best friend caught him in a big hug with a gentle squeeze.

“Love you, Micah.”

Micah grunted in amusement. “You always get sappy after watching me sleep.”

“Yes.” There was a smile in Elijah’s voice, and Micah sighed and returned the hug, leaning his head on his best friend’s chest as he closed his eyes, almost wishing he _could_ take the offer to be carried to class.

“Love you too, El.”


	8. Change of Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ((Filled request: "a fic where micah cancels plans to stay home and take care of an achy elijah? maybe without even telling el that there was anywhere he needed to be? i would DIE." - anonymous))

Micah looked up from his computer when he heard Elijah give a low, pained grunt and roll over slightly on the couch. “El? You okay?”

“Fine.” Elijah pushed his face further into the pillow under his cheek, tucked an arm over his waist, and fell silent again. Micah frowned. He sure didn’t _look_ fine.

A second later, Micah’s phone began ringing in his pocket, and he sighed and reached for it, getting up from where he was sitting at the table as he peered at the number. Elijah lifted his head slightly and glanced over his shoulder. “Is that Cole?”

“Yeah, looks like it.” Micah lowered the phone, his gaze flitting back to Elijah, who had dropped his head again and curled up slightly where he lay.

“Does he need me to walk you out to the end of the block so he can pick you up?” Elijah half-mumbled into the pillow, and Micah frowned further. Something was off…

His unspoken question was answered a moment later when Elijah squirmed slightly and pressed a hand to his stomach, rubbing at it subtly with poorly-hidden distress. He was probably getting a tummyache from the big lunch they’d just had. Elijah had been out on the streets for a couple of days and had only just gotten back, and clearly hadn’t been eating much. A full meal on a long-empty stomach almost always gave Elijah a tummyache.

“Uh…” Micah rapidly thought over his plans with Cole to go to the mall that afternoon. “Let me check first, maybe he’s just letting me know he’s leaving now or something.”

Micah waited for the quiet grunt of assent from Elijah before he crossed the apartment to duck into the bedroom. He pulled the door to a crack and lifted the phone to his ear as he moved towards the bed. “Hey, Cole?”

“Yeah, it’s me!” Cole hesitated. “Was gonna say I’m almost to your block… why are you talking so quiet?”

“El’s laying down. I think he’s not feeling good but he’s trying not to show it.” Micah sighed. “Listen… I think I need to stay here to look after him. Sorry man, I hope it’s okay if you go without me? And could I maybe tell him that there was a change of plans?”

“Ooh, yeah, totally.” Cole agreed, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. “I could even ask Jordan instead. Make it a date night. You could tell your big guy you didn’t want to tag along with the sap fest or something?”

Micah had to cover a laugh that would have come out too loud. “Yeah, that sounds perfect. Thanks, bud.”

“No problem.” There was a pause. “He’s not… hurt, is he?”

Micah smiled a bit sadly. “He’s not been stabbed or shot or anything like that. I think his tummy just hurts. But I know he’d hide it and try to shoo me out with you if he thought it’d mess our plans up.”

“Yeah, makes sense. I’ll see you on campus tomorrow then?”

“Yeah, thanks again. Bye, Cole.” The phone’s holographic display dimmed and Micah pocketed his phone, pushing the door open to head back into the living room.

“Hmm?” Elijah didn’t move or even bother with words, just made a soft, inquiring sound. Micah chuckled and perched on the couch next to him, rubbing one big shoulder soothingly.

“Change of plans. Cole wanted to let me know he’s inviting Jordan, and I didn’t really want to be the third wheel. Besides, I’d rather shop online anyways so I don’t have to spend as much.” Micah reached over to brush a strand of hair out of Elijah’s eyes, and his best friend blinked and turned his striking blue gaze on him. He looked tired and there was a faint crease in his brow that Micah had come to associate with hidden pain. “What’s wrong, El?” He asked even though he already knew the answer. He was pretty sure Elijah wouldn’t volunteer the information unless he was asked.

Elijah gave a quiet sigh and just stared into space for a moment. Micah watched him bite his lip, silent conflict in his eyes, and guilt. “Um, well…”

“Gotta tell me what’s wrong, dumbass.” Micah rubbed his shoulder some more. “So I can help.”

Elijah fidgeted. “Mmm… my stomach hurts, a bit.”

 _A “bit.” Yeah, right._ Micah fought down the urge to roll his eyes as Elijah’s whole body tensed when his tummy gurgled faintly. “Do you want me to rub it?”

Elijah nodded, his eyes closing, but not in time to hide the guilt Micah could see in them. His heart pinched a little, and he wished Elijah wouldn’t feel so bad every time he needed a little extra care. “Well, roll over onto your back or something, you behemoth. I couldn’t move you if I tried.”

That got a little smile out of Elijah, to Micah’s relief. His best friend shifted with a faint grimace, rolling over towards him, and Micah laid his hands gently against Elijah’s stomach, feeling clenched muscles, miserable rumbles, and a tight, tense swell just under his ribs. Too much food after going hungry too long; he knew it.

“Just try to relax, you bastard.” Micah murmured softly, pressing in as much as he dared to rub circles over where he could tell the achy places were. Elijah squirmed under the touch for a minute before he started to relax, relief almost immediately washing over his face. Micah smiled and rubbed back and forth for a long few minutes, then worked the heel of his hand over a gurgly spot, then switched back to big circles. He alternated patterns and pressures and gentle kneading motions for the better part of an hour, until Elijah was breathing softly and his stomach had gone soft with relaxation under his hands.

“Thank you, Micah.” Elijah mumbled thickly after a while, and Micah smiled again, giving the center of his best friend’s tummy a small pat. “You’re welcome, dumbass. You feeling better?”

Elijah rubbed an eye. “Very much.” He lifted a hand to cover a deep belch and stretched a little when Micah patted his tummy again. “What time is it?”

“Still the middle of the afternoon.” Micah kicked off his shoes and laid down, cuddling up to Elijah’s side. He couldn’t stop himself from grinning when Elijah made a noise of surprised delight. “You wanna take a nap?”

A big arm was already winding around him, hugging him even closer and holding him fast. “Mmhmm.” Micah wasn’t getting away any time soon.

He laid his head down on Elijah’s chest and closed his eyes. “Yeah, me too.”


	9. Poolside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ((Filled request: "Micah and Elijah’s friend group all go on a picnic/swimming day and they decide to eat beforehand but Elijah is really tired and not able to watch after Micah as well. Micah overeats just a little bit and then he goes out into the water and totally upsets his stomach. Micah comes up there to lay with Elijah where he fell asleep to see if just laying there will calm his stomach but Elijah actually wakes up a little bit and hears Micah’s stomach angrily growling and just instantly starts rubbing it making Micah Jump a bit cause he didn’t know he had woken up." - mxnsterparty on tumblr))

Micah hid his smile beneath the surface of the water and exchanged an amused look with Sasha, who was sitting on a lawn chair reading a book. She caught his gaze and laughed, which only made Cole complain louder.

“Come _on_ guys, it’s not funny! I can’t swim without my ear plugs.”

“I can’t swim at all.” Macy piped up cheerfully from the shallow end of the pool, then pointed to Sasha. “Sasha has to deal with those big heavy wings getting soaked any time _she_ tries to swim!”

“You humans definitely have it easy.” Sasha chuckled, dabbing her thumb along the condensation on her glass of iced water, then used the dampness to turn a page. “Maybe Micah can teach you how to swim, Mace.”

“I’d be shit at teaching.” Micah disagreed emphatically.

“ _Guys!_ ” Cole, usually so good-tempered, threw his towel down on the ground in a huff and the rest of the group quickly sobered, giving him more sympathetic looks. “I really can’t find them. I really wanted us all to get to swim today!”

“Cole, we can just run over to the corner store and get another set.” Jordan soothed him, patting his back softly in a rare show of gentle affection. “It wouldn’t take us more than fifteen minutes, tops.”

Cole sighed, the tip of his tail twitching mildly. “I guess so.” He looked over at his friends gathered in and around the pool. “You guys won’t start any games til we get back, right?”

“It’s _your_ pool.” Micah pointed out with a grin, shoving his wet curls back out of his face. “Wouldn’t be much fun to play in it without you here.”

Cole cheered, tail lifting a bit, and gave Micah a relieved smile, turning to shove his flip flops onto his feet. “Okay. We’ll be right back!”

There was a chorus of “good luck’s” and a reminder from Sasha to be careful on the road, then Jordan and Cole were latching the backyard gate behind them and heading for the car. Micah paddled over to the side of the pool to check on Elijah, who was still sleeping incredibly soundly, stretched out on a towel laid on the grass. He was fully clothed and had refused, when Micah had asked him, to put on a swimsuit to swim, and Micah knew it was because of the scars but didn’t want to call him on it. He’d honestly just been glad that Elijah had agreed to come to Cole’s “pool day,” even if he wouldn’t get in the water. Which was a shame, since Elijah loved the water so much.

Micah sighed and rested his chin on his arm, treading water and feeling the coolness swirl around his legs with the sunshine warming his wet curls. He turned his head, watching Macy climb up the steps to retrieve a pool float, when he felt his full tummy cramp sharply and couldn’t bite back a little gasp.

Sasha fluttered a wing and looked over at him in concern. “You okay, babe?”

Micah winced, feeling for the bottom of the pool with his foot so he could stand up. “Uh— I’m okay—“ The cramp worsened and his tummy rumbled loudly a moment later, when he grasped the edge of the pool to heft himself up and out. He groaned faintly and moved a hand to hold it.

“Aww, geez, baby, didn’t Elijah say not to get in the pool after eating so soon?” Sasha put her book aside and walked over, patting him on the back, rubbing his shoulder. The group had gone out for a big lunch just beforehand and Micah had eaten a little too much, but Elijah had thoroughly comforted him during the car ride back to Cole’s place. He’d soothed him so well, in fact, that Micah was ready to jump right into the pool and had ignored his best friend’s warning about upsetting his stomach again.

“I’ll be okay.” Micah whimpered unconvincingly, letting Sasha gently pull him to his feet. “I’m just gonna—“ He covered a sharp hiccup. “Lay down with El for a sec.”

“Here, put your t-shirt back on so the grass won’t make you itchy.” Sasha had grabbed his towel and was patting him dry. She draped it around his shoulders and reached for his shirt, and when she came back, Micah snagged her in a big hug and gave her a kiss, hiccuping around a pained smile when she laughed in delight.

Elijah hadn’t moved in almost an hour, but Micah still tried to be as quiet as possible, creeping up next to him and laying his towel out, watching his friend’s face for signs he was waking up. Micah laid down with a soft groan and rolled over to his back, tucking his hands over his still-angrily-gurgling belly, hoping it would settle down by the time Jordan and Cole came back, so he could join in the pool games. He’d just let his eyes close when a big, warm hand touched his side and he jumped a little, startled, causing an irritable rumble to squeeze through his middle.

“Sorry, El.” Micah hiccuped and winced as his best friend began to gently knead over the swollen curve of his tummy. “Didn’t mean to wake you up…”

Elijah grunted something unintelligible. His eyes hadn’t opened but his touch was so tender and careful as he smoothed comforting circles up and around the achy places; the slight churning began to settle under his fingers. Micah sighed and felt himself start to relax again, surprising himself with a deep burp a second later.

“Ugh, ‘scuse me.” Micah rolled his eyes as Elijah chuckled. “Aren’t you gonna wake up enough to say ‘I told you so?’”

“Micah.” Elijah rubbed a thumb in a circle just above his navel and massaged his side with the edge of his palm, relaxing the tightness there. He still didn’t open his eyes. “I have _never_ said that to you.”

Micah ducked his head, rolled over, and snuggled a little closer to his best friend. A big hand patted his back affectionately, and he had to sigh, a huge smile spreading over his sun-warmed face. “Yeah. Guess you haven’t.”


	10. Baklava

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This fic contains references to childhood hunger, neglect, and food scrounging. There are also potentially upsetting themes of self worth and self punishment. Please exercise caution and stay safe if you choose to read.
> 
> Elijah gets an upset stomach from eating too much sugar on top of a big meal, and struggles with some cruel inner thoughts as Micah comforts and reassures him.

He’d made it out of the classroom. He’d made it out of the building. He’d made it all the way back on the bus, and into the apartment, and onto the couch. He was _going_ to make it through the night. He had to.

Elijah swallowed heavily, fighting against a bubble in his throat, terrified of letting it up in case it brought a wave of his dinner with it. His stomach didn’t react well to the air being forced back down, and clenched and churned and a groan slipped past his teeth. He had both hands folded over the upper part of his belly, desperately willing everything to stay down. The sickly sweet taste of seasoned honey coated the back of his throat and he tried, frantically, to think of anything _but_ that.

The sensation of Micah’s hands on his sides and waist was a somewhat comforting distraction; even though his best friend’s touch wasn’t doing much to soothe his roiling insides, it was doing a lot to soothe the sharp edge of his anxiety. Elijah swallowed again and he heard Micah sigh, before a cool hand wiped sweat from his forehead.

“Come on, dude, you look so _miserable_. Just… get it out and over with.”

“ _No_.” Elijah whimpered, fingers curling against the squeezing sensation in his middle. He was not going to give in. He couldn’t lose this. Who knew when he’d see food again, and if he showed up to his supervisor weak and shaky from hunger, he’d not be allowed to pitch in and get his share of the payout. Brielle needed money for her school lunches next week…

 _Wait_. No. He was just confused. He didn’t have to worry about that anymore. 

 _Oh, so it’s okay for you to waste food, just because you let her down? You already fucked up so far that you can do no more wrong? What kind of selfish, arrogant_ — 

“El.” Micah’s hand brushed his forehead again and Elijah managed to pry an eye open to peer at him, then shut it again quickly. The room was spinning.  
“I’m gonna get the trashcan, okay? Just in case. You want me to fill the hot water bottle while I’m up?”

Elijah tried to determine whether it was more risky to open his mouth or nod his head. The couch was rocking underneath him, and he decided he couldn’t bear to move.

“Please.” He forced the whisper through gritted teeth, barely parting his lips. Were his eyes watering? He couldn’t tell. 

“Okay, just try to take deep breaths or something, I dunno.” Micah’s hand patted his lower belly very gently, beneath where Elijah was digging his fingernails against his shirt and skin, and then he felt his best friend slide off the couch with immense care to avoid jostling him.  
He had to keep this down. He _had_ to keep this down.

Elijah listened to the sounds of Micah moving around the kitchen, dragging the trashcan out from under the sink and putting a fresh bag in it. The tap began to run after a bit, and the cascading sound of water helped him focus, for a moment, past the feeling that his stomach was trying to crawl its way up his throat. It squeezed suddenly and he coughed, gagged, swallowed hard. _No_.

He was so nauseous. He was _so_ sick. He could barely hold onto a clear thought, and his stomach was full and rebelling against every ounce of it. Foul, acidic saliva coated the inside of his mouth, no matter how many times he swallowed it back. Every time he swallowed, another bubble of air would churn into his putrid insides. Another surge had him choking on a mouthful of vomit. He bit his lip hard enough to see stars and swallowed, forced it back. He coughed and swallowed it back. _No_.

One hand had risen of its own accord from his stomach, and he clamped two fingers over his lips, sealing them shut, keeping it back. He swallowed, and suddenly Micah was there, wedging the trash can between his knees and rubbing his shoulder, because he had his own arm curled too far around his stomach now to leave room to rub it.

“Elijah come on, please. Oh, _fuck_ , you bit your lip.” Micah’s thumb brushed over his bearded chin, wiping away a trickle of blood. “You bastard. Just let it go.”

 _No_. Elijah didn’t dare risk speaking now. A pressure was swelling under his ribs, his vision was almost grey.

After a long pause, Micah reached down and picked up the trashcan again, shoving it under his chin. More to give himself something to hold onto than anything else, Elijah gripped the sides of it and bent his head over it, gulping against the wretchedness in his belly.

He vaguely registered Micah’s hands sliding over his front, beginning to slowly, tenderly rub at his abused, clenching muscles, trying to soothe and comfort him. He felt the heat pack being slipped under his shirt a moment later, and the warmth brought a faint hint of relief and a bit of clarity. He was seeing spots behind his eyelids and he blinked a couple of times to clear them. There was a throbbing in his temples. His stomach hurt too, it _ached_ , churning and sloshing inside him, seizing around what _had_ been good food and the mistake that had led him here, two large squares of baklava, drizzled with honey and caked with sugar. 

It was always a treat when professors reached out to their students, bringing them into classrooms with home cooked meals. It hadn’t been like the common end-of-semester potluck, but it had been a fair amount of food nonetheless, and he had enjoyed it, eaten til he was satisfied and then just a tad more that left him feeling heavy and sleepy. But then he’d been approached by one of the teachers in his department, someone he’d been trying to build a bit of a professional relationship with over the past couple of years, and she had pointed out that she’d brought dessert and he hadn’t felt he had much choice. He must have done too good a job of faking enjoyment; she’d gone to get another piece for herself and brought him back a second one as well.

Another wave, another desperate swallow and breathless, heaving cough. He clamped down and shut his eyes again and gritted his teeth. _No_. He had an entire _meal_ he couldn’t let go of now. It had been good food and it would give him staying power, and he could make it through another couple of days with maybe minor snacks if he held onto this. He _would_ hold onto this. He _would_ —

Something pressed in on the softest part of his belly, and it was over. The sudden push, inwards and upwards, provoked a squeezing in his entire abdomen, his body battling to purge itself. He had time for a strangled moan of anguish, and to raise one hand against to claw futilely at his mouth, trying to keep it all down, when the wave of sick spewed through his fingers into the trashcan beneath his chin and he began to cough and heave relentlessly.

It felt like hours, breath catching, teeth clenching only to part involuntarily each time as he threw up, again and again. After every retch, he struggled to clamp down, to _stop_ , to keep what little he had left, but it was useless. It all tasted utterly horrid coming back up, but in the most distressing, recognizable way. His eyes were definitely watering now, and he felt the trickle of tears down his cheeks, but he was _not_ crying. It was from the strain of vomiting, nothing more.

“It’s okay, El. S’okay.” A hand rubbed and patted his back, and Elijah remembered Micah had been there the whole time. He had a sudden, vicious urge to snarl, to tell Micah to leave him in the misery he deserved. But then his stomach constricted and he heaved again, bringing up more bile-tinted, half-digested food. He whimpered as a faint burp trickled out and foul saliva dripped from his lips.

He dry heaved for a while even once his stomach was empty, coughing and choking after every squeeze, taking frantic gasps of air with the panic attack that crashed over his head. There was a belt around his chest, _squeezing_ — every limb shook and trembled and he blinked rapidly with damp lashes, spitting up more mouthfuls of fluid. He just wanted to _breathe_. Breathe.

Elijah couldn’t have known how much time passed before he was still again, head still hanging over the trashcan. The disgusting smell wafted around his face but he couldn’t bring himself to move, to set it down. It was a while before it was gently pried from his hands, and he heard the sounds of it being tied up and pushed away. He heard the gushing of the kitchen tap again, and then, a soft hand curled around his wrist and someone began bathing his hand with a warm washcloth. When his fingers were clean and damp, the washcloth was pressed to his lips, wiping away the disgusting crust on his mouth and the bit that had stuck in his beard on his chin. He opened his eyes a sliver, looking into Micah’s gaze, and the sympathy and concern there was too much. He choked on a sob, tears falling down his cheeks again, and his best friend’s thumb stroked them away as he squeezed his eyes shut again.

“Lean back and try to relax, El.” Micah’s voice said softly once he was finished cleaning him up. “I’m gonna bring you some tea, okay? Then I’ll rub your tummy and we can try to help get you feeling better.”

“Don’t. Stop… _helping_ me.” Elijah whispered, shivering suddenly. “Deserve this.”

“Why the fuck would you say something like that?”

“Wasted food.” Elijah tasted the tang of blood on his lip. “My fault. Wasn’t strong enough. Stupid.”

“You’re wrong.” Micah told him, then pressed a hand to his shoulder and pushed him gently back agains the pillows on the couch. He was too exhausted to resist. “I don’t have much else to say about it, but you’re wrong. Lay still, take deep breaths. I’ll be right back.”

Micah came back with both a glass of water and a mug of ginger tea. He gave him the water first, and Elijah rinsed his mouth and drank about half of it. The warm mug was pressed into his hands next, and he took a few careful sips, tension leaving his strained muscles as the warm, soothing liquid settled in his gurgling, still churning belly. Then Micah’s hands smoothed over his stomach, beginning to rub and massage, and it was such a _relief_ , so comforting and affectionate, that Elijah felt a squeezing around his heart not unlike the earlier cramping in his middle. Every instinct screamed at him to push away, to let himself suffer, but it felt so good, and he was so tired and sore…

The cruel thoughts in his mind lost most of their hold after a bit of a struggle, and he laid more heavily against the pillows, giving into Micah’s love with no small amount of guilt. His best friend didn’t speak again until he’d finished his tea and set the empty mug aside, and when he did, his voice was so sympathetic, Elijah knew he was going to end up spilling everything. He was too tired to hold out anymore.

“El… why do you have this… compulsion not to ‘waste food?’ You said that back before winter holiday too. You stuffed yourself into that awful stomach ache because you just couldn’t stand to throw anything away.”

Elijah blinked, tried to muster the will to answer. “I was… hungry for so long.” He heard Micah take a sharp breath. “Anything I wasted… I learned to regret. Even when the hunger pangs would fade, the sense of weakness make me ineffective in fights… left us with even less money.”

Micah’s hand rubbed another comforting circle over his belly, his thumb working against the bloat, beneath the edge of his ribs. Elijah stifled a burp behind one hand, then suddenly, realization struck him.

“You—!” Elijah’s eyes flew wide, his wounded gaze fixing on his best friend beside him, who somehow looked both apologetic and stern. “You pushed on my stomach!” His own hand rose to cradle his middle as it cramped a little with his sudden rush of distress. “I— I might have made it through if you hadn’t—!”

“Oh, shut the hell up. You would _not_ have fucking made it, El.”

“Why would you do that?” Elijah whimpered, wanting to pull away and curl up defensively. He didn’t, but he wanted to. He couldn’t help but feel oddly betrayed. “I could have… I was trying so _hard_ —“

“You would have been miserable for a while longer and then you would have thrown up, don’t try to tell me you wouldn’t have, we both know that’s not true.” Micah growled at him gently. “I couldn’t watch you torture yourself for another few hours or however long it took, you dumbass bastard.”

Elijah felt silent and stared morosely at the floor, then Micah sighed and forced his way into a cuddle against his side, laying his cheek on his upper arm, still rubbing his belly for him. “Don’t be mad at me. You know I was just trying to help. I’m sorry it upset you so much… I wasn’t expecting you to… go full panic mode like that.”

Elijah gave a small, wounded little sound, before reluctantly raising his arm and pulling Micah into an embrace, hiding his face in his curls. “That was not very fair of you.”

“I know, dude. M’sorry. Sort of.” His best friend’s hand patted his stomach soothingly. “How do you feel now, though?”

Elijah took stock of himself, and sighed deeply, leaning his head back again and closing his eyes, confessing, “I feel so much better.” His belly still had an ache to it, sore from the clenching and still slightly unsettled, burbling with what little fluid remained. But it wasn’t full anymore, fighting against every shred of will he possessed to empty itself, tormenting him with squeezing pain and waves of vertigo and nausea and stifling heat. The sweat had dried from his forehead.

“Course you do.” Micah wiggled, sitting up a little more, and pressed a kiss to his cheek, wholly affectionate and mildly chastising. It was comforting beyond words. “Geez, man, this thing you have with sugar is awful. Why does it hurt your tummy so much?” He frowned. “Can you be allergic to sugar?”

Elijah’s lips tightened. Should he really answer that? “It used to be all I had… some days. Can’t… stand it anymore.”

Micah blinked at him, then his eyes narrowed. “What? Are you gonna explain that at all?”

Elijah took a deep breath, then hiccuped, and Micah quickly resumed the massage, pressing comforting patterns against his sore belly. “I… when I was younger, and so often hungry, I could find food sometimes in waste receptacles. Usually—“

“No fucking way. You ate out of _dumpsters?_ ”

“ _Don’t_ —“ Elijah’s breath caught a little and he raised a hand to cover his eyes. “Don’t _call_ it that.”

His best friend fell silent, eerily so, but after a few moments, Elijah felt he could continue.

“Usually, foods with meat or dairy components were unsafe to eat after only a few hours. Produce would rot after a few days, but it wasn’t very filling even when fresh. Grocery stores with bakeries though, will throw out bread and desserts that they do not sell within a week or less of making them. When things were most difficult I… I more or less lived off sweets.” His belly gurgled warningly and he bit back a faint groan. “I cannot stand the taste now. And because I avoid them so much, I’m not very tolerant to them. You’ll find similar phenomena in people who take on fad diets and the like; I am far from the only one with this experience. Sugar tolerance is very common, but in those who tend to avoid it, it can be very disruptive when over-consumed.”

He gained traction as he spoke, finding comfort in the cadence of refined speech, pulling himself together with words of logical explanation. Then he felt that tentative rug yank out from under him when Micah spoke up again.

“So it’s somewhat… psychological?”

Elijah sucked in a breath, clenching both hands to his head now, hiding his face and bowing his chin, and Micah tugged frantically at his shoulder.

“Aw shit, no dude! I don’t mean you’re faking it or whatever! I just mean that like… do you think it would be easier to get used to the taste again and maybe build up a tolerance if you didn’t feel so upset when you ate sugar?”

Elijah struggled to take a reasonable breath. “Maybe.”

“I think we should try.” Micah’s hand gently combed through his hair. “Maybe not with sweets though necessarily, just… other things that have a bit more sugar in them, with other flavors too, that you could eat and maybe enjoy a little and you wouldn’t have to associate bad things with it; you just wouldn’t get so sick every time you felt coerced into downing a cookie or something.”

“Okay.” Elijah whispered, too tired to do anything, _say_ anything else.

Micah gave him a long look when he laid back again, his eyes soft and worried. “Okay, El. Now that your tummy is feeling better, how do I get _you_ feeling better?”

The question gave him pause, and he quietly stared at the ceiling for a few moments. He was just sore, inside and out, physically, mentally, emotionally. And tired.

“Sleep, I think.” Elijah murmured, not bothering to stifle a yawn. “And…” he told himself, _don’t you_ ** _dare_** _ask for anything else, Micah has gone to enough trouble for your sake already_ , but Micah had asked him, and he reminded himself that he was just answering. It was okay, it was alright, he was just answering the question. “And I don’t… want to be alone.”

Micah smirked in relief. “Cuddles?”

“Please.”

“Let’s get you in bed, then. Brush your teeth first though, you’ll feel better if you get that taste out of your mouth.”

“Mhm.”

Elijah managed to drag himself in and out of the bathroom, taking care of his nightly routine and changing into softer, more comfortable clothes. Micah brushed his own teeth after him, then came and got in bed with him, chuckling fondly when Elijah wrapped him up in a tight hug and held onto him for dear life. A hand began rubbing his belly again when it gave a mild protest, and he sighed in relief at the comforting feeling.

“Thank you for taking care of me, Micah.” Elijah whispered, pushing away the thoughts that said not to put so much emphasis on it, because then he was just putting more responsibility on Micah for next time. He needed his best friend to know how thankful he was. Even if he felt he didn’t deserve it…

“You’re welcome.” Micah said softly, yawning and snuggling closer. “I’m just… glad you’re feeling better. It really sucks seeing you like that. Love you too damn much to see you like that.”

Elijah couldn’t restrain a small noise of touched surprise. “…I love you too, Micah.”

“Know you do. Means everything to me.” Micah’s warm palm massaged his sore middle, and he tucked his soft, curled head under Elijah’s chin. “Thanks for always sticking with me, no matter what. You gotta learn to let me do the same, dude.”

“Oh.” Elijah whispered, slipping off. “I suppose so…”

“You’ll get there. I know you’re trying, I can tell. Really glad you are, finally.”

Elijah fell asleep, breathing deeply, cradling Micah close. That’s right. He was trying.

He’d get there, someday.


	11. Tease

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ((Filled request: "Can you write about Micah’s tummy making noises and him being embarrassed and Elijah teases him for it? Love your blog btw"))

Elijah felt Micah squirm beside him for the upteenth time and expertly stifled a chuckle. He rolled over and wrapped an arm over his best friend, giving a little squeeze. Micah hiccuped, and his stomach gurgled low and plaintively.

“Do you feel alright?” Elijah wanted to make sure, nestling his chin against fluffy curls. He smiled against them affectionately when Micah huffed in irritation and squirmed again.

“I feel fine! I don’t know why it’s doing that.” Micah hugged his belly as it voiced another protest.

“Hmm. Did you eat anything unusual?” Elijah lifted his arm and drew his hand back, settling it over the warm swell of Micah’s side, rubbing soft circles with the pads of his fingers. Micah scooted backwards a little, cuddling closer.

“Not that I can remember.” He muttered, annoyed, grunting quietly in relaxation as Elijah’s attentive massage eased the tightness and began to work comfort into the roundness of his tummy instead.

Elijah patted very gently just under Micah’s ribs, prompting another hiccup. “Maybe you are still hungry.” He suggested impishly. “What else could it be complaining about?”

Micah groaned aloud and kicked his heel backwards against Elijah’s shin. “Shut up.”

Elijah circled his thumb over Micah’s navel, feeling out a small twinge and chasing it away. It was easy to tease him, his best friend reacted so easily (because he was silly.) “I still have some cookies in the pantry from the last time you were here. And some milk, chocolate syrup…”

Micah whined, grabbed a couch pillow, and slung it backwards over his shoulder, hitting Elijah in the face. Elijah laughed.

“Leave me alone you bastard.” Micah groused, starting to pull away. Elijah scooped him back against his chest, holding him fast, smoothing his broad palm in a wide arc over the center of his tummy comfortingly. Micah relaxed again with a few grumpy mumbles.

“I’m sorry, Micah.” Elijah whispered, cuddling his best friend tenderly. “I was only teasing. Are you mad at me?”

“Not _really_.” Micah admitted with extreme reluctance, sighing in defeat when Elijah rested his cheek atop his soft head again. “I just really don’t want to think about food right now. I’m so full.” He groaned softly and moved one hand to give Elijah room to press in over a low gurgle.

“I’m sorry.” Elijah said again, still amused. He watched Micah close his eyes and smiled fondly, still rubbing his friend’s belly. Micah was fallling asleep, and Elijah loved it when he was drowsy and tucked warmly up next to him. It felt like he was keeping Micah very safe.

“You could nap if you would like?” Elijah gave his best friend another very gentle squeeze and Micah sighed, already on his way out.

“Yeah… think I will…” He buried his cheek further into Elijah’s arm and was breathing deeply within moments.

Elijah felt his heart swell, and he pressed a kiss over Micah’s temple. Very safe. Safe and warm and hopefully happy, despite the teasing.

Elijah moved one hand long enough to grasp the blanket and draw it up to their waists, before tucking his hand back over Micah’s swollen stomach and resuming his dutiful rubs.


	12. Chili Beans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ((Filled Request: "I know it’s not the most original idea, but I’ve been seriously craving some warm, hearty soup on a cold evening; featuring two very stuffed, sleepy beans with lots of cuddles n’ rubs? :0" - anon))

Micah held the spoon over the stew pot with all the terrified concentration of a cat creeping through a room full of rocking chairs. “I’m going to set something on fire.”

“I am standing right here.” Elijah chuckled beside him. “You are not even remotely in danger of setting something on fire. Not at the moment, at least. Keep stirring.”

Micah hefted a sigh and dipped the spoon back in, trying to stir in big, steady circles like Elijah had shown him. His best friend brandished the measurement spoon he was using as he took the lid off a can of seasoning.

“Three fourths teaspoon dried rosemary.” Elijah knocked the spoon against the side of the pot, dusting the herb onto the beef, garlic, and vegetables below. Micah’s careful stirring mixed it in. “Another three fourths teaspoon dried thyme…” Elijah sprinkled the next seasoning in. “I will write the recipe down for you, of course.”

“El, I really haven’t been following hardly any of what you’ve said.” Micah said blandly. “I’m just trying not to mess up the damn stew.”

“Micah.” Elijah’s hand closed over his on the spoon he was using to stir, gently tugged it from him, and began stirring in his place. He ruffled Micah’s curls with his other hand and then dropped his fingers down to squeeze his shoulder. “Half the reason you are not able to cook well is that you _tell_ yourself you cannot cook. You are not going to mess anything up, I promise.”

Micah sighed again as his best friend pulled him snug against his chest and leaned down to kiss the top of his head. He smushed his cheek against Elijah’s chest and wound his arms around him. “Guess if you say so.”

“If you do not want to stir anymore, would you get the sour cream out for me?” Elijah gave him a gentle push in the direction of the fridge. “It’s on the second shelf from the top in the door.”

“You got it.” Micah smirked and retrieved the little tub, bringing it back to the counter. He watched Elijah add half a cup and fold it in until it had dissolved into the steaming broth. Careful not to disturb his best friend’s stirring, Micah huddled up against his side and squirmed under the crook of his arm. Elijah moved his hand to rub his shoulder warmly.

The apartment wasn’t really _too_ chilly, but the heating had sort-of broken (in that, it wasn’t _entirely_ broken, but it wasn’t operating at full functionality), and Elijah couldn’t work on it very well until it stopped snowing outside. The two of them had positioned a few space heaters around the place to make up the difference, but it was still just a _tiny_ bit less warm than usual, so Micah had cheerfully asked if they could make a hearty soup for dinner, and to his dismay, Elijah had taken the suggestion as an opportunity for cooking lessons. Micah had taken the offered spoon with a sense of descending dread. At least it had been easy to complain his way out of it; Elijah was such a big soft pushover.

“Go sit on the couch.” Elijah rubbed Micah’s back and nudged him towards their copious pile of blankets in front of the TV. “Get the burgundy quilt and wrap up, this will be finished in just a moment.”

“I’m not _that_ cold, El.” Micah said, but didn’t resist the affectionate prodding and headed over to the daybed to bundle up amidst the pillows. Elijah pulled the nearby side table over to where they’d both be able to reach it, put down an oven mitt and set the hot stew pot on top, then ladled out two deep bowls and nestled into the pile right next to Micah. By the time they were halfway through an episode of Micah’s favorite comedy show, the hot food, thick blankets, and cozy cuddle was more than enough to keep them both toasty warm.

Micah bit into another spoonful of savory beef and sweet tomatoes, chasing a sliver of caramelized onion around the thick, creamy broth in his bowl as he chewed. The meat was so tender it fell apart between his teeth, and the peas and carrots were stewed to a delicious softness. A thin sheen of gravy from the beef swirled around his spoon when he dipped it back into the broth. He paused to take a drink from a cold, satisfying glass of milk, before scooping up a big chunk of starchy potato.

Elijah was quiet and relaxed beside him, lowering his own bowl of stew every so often to mess with Micah’s curls, which Micah “tolerated” (enjoyed) with a sideways grin. The TV’s display started getting staticky from the snow still falling outside, so Elijah flipped through channels until they found one that was coming through fairly well; some kind of automobile auction that neither of them had much interest in, but it was nice to have the background noise and softly flickering images. The evening passed comfortably.

“Mmm… let’s just… put it away, Micah.” Elijah yawned and rubbed at his eyes once he’d finished his fourth bowl of stew, stretching a little.

Micah snorted and tilted the pot a bit more. “Are you kidding? There’s not enough left in here to make a decent meal if we tried to split it later.” He patted at the broad curve of Elijah’s tummy even as his own grumbled a little. “C’mon, you can eat more than this.”

“M’full.” Elijah protested, his eyelids drifting shut. Micah laughed.

“I think you’re just sleepy.”

“Mmf.”

“Fine, I’ll just finish it by myse—“ Micah squeaked, startled, as Elijah reached around him to take the bowl he’d started filling up. 

“You’ll give yourself a stomachache, Micah.” His friend chided, and Micah rolled his eyes, scraping out what was left in the pot into the second bowl.

“Not if you eat that and I eat this.”

Elijah sighed in defeat and scooped up a spoonful of stew, chewing dutifully and wrapping an arm briefly around Micah to feel over the swell of his tummy and knead in with gentle fingers. Micah covered a burp and stuffed another bite down, lifting his napkin to his mouth before the juice from the meat could drip down his chin. The seasonings had settled just slightly to the bottom and now he was tasting everything even more powerfully. It was delicious, but he drank more milk to wash it down.

By the time they’d emptied their bowls and set them aside, the both of them were groaning softly, draped over the end of the couch, with swollen stomachs and the blankets bunched up around them.

Micah huffed in relief when Elijah’s big, warm hand found the curve of his straining tummy and began rubbing again, and he couldn’t help but arch into the press of fingers with another short groan. He was flopped against his best friend’s side and he curled an arm over Elijah’s middle, smoothing his palm in firm, steady circles across the tightness he could feel under his friend’s ribs. Elijah squirmed and covered a belch.

“Don’t we need to brush our fucking teeth or somethin’…” Micah muttered ruefully, sprawling more openly over Elijah’s chest. Elijah’s belly gurgled at the pressure and he shifted restlessly, but wound an arm around Micah to pull him closer instead of pushing him away.

“Mmhm…” Elijah suddenly lifted a hand to where Micah was rubbing his tummy and squashed both their hands in over the spot with a dazed grunt. “ _Ughh_ …”

“Maybe we c’n just brush ‘em extra well in the morning?” Micah mumbled in exhaustion. Elijah just hummed something completely unintelligible. And then groaned again.

Micah wasn’t sure which of them fell asleep first. Elijah’s thumb was still stroking gentle circles into the tight heaviness of Micah’s sides and Micah could have sworn he was still massaging the tender place just above the center of Elijah’s tummy that he loved having rubbed so much, especially when he’d overeaten.

One of them must have woken up at some point in the night to sleepily snag the edge of the burgundy quilt and tuck it over them both again, because they woke up in a warm cocoon, and very opposed to moving, even to go fix the heater.

But Elijah dragged himself out there to do it anyways after another half-hour spent cuddling, and Micah gathered all his willpower and courage.

By the time Elijah came back inside, there was a plate of sort-of-scrambled, not-quite-burnt-but-maybe-a-little-singed eggs on the table waiting for him.


	13. Getting Carried Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ((based on a post by @skipperafterdark on Tumblr: "I love a good “uGh im so FULL” performance as much as the next guy, but it’s the ate-so-much-I-wish-I-was-faking-it kinda stuff that drives me crazy. shallow breathing…hiccups…little burps and groans…hands desperately trying to ease the pain…"
> 
> filled request: I would love to see a scenario with the “so full i wish i was faking it post” with Micah? with gratuitous comfort of course!!! Bonus points for lorge bean gently reprimanding the irresponsible but lovable bean))

Micah slung his duffle bag over his shoulder and jogged out of the locker rooms towards the picnic field. The afternoon’s fundraising scrimmage game had been a blast, but he’d been one of the last in line for the showers and was worried the barbecue lunch afterwards was going to be picked over if he didn’t hurry.

Fortunately, he needn’t have worried. The picnic area was jam-packed with people, but the long tables were still crammed with plates of sandwiches, brisket, potato salad, slaw, baked beans, bread, corn on the cob, and various types of cookies and pudding for dessert.

Micah hurried to claim a place in line, grab a plate, and load it with as many things as he could fit on it so he wouldn’t have to come back for seconds as quickly. There was going to be a replay of the game on the big screen set up near the bleachers and he wanted to catch all of it. So once he’d added pickles and barbecue sauce to his brisket, dropped an ear of corn onto his plate, tucked spoonfuls of slaw and potato salad into the remaining corners, and stacked a couple of rolls and cookies on top of his sandwich, he shouldered through the crowd with a grin and gave his tag team partner a high five as they both searched for seats.

Micah beamed as he bit into his sandwich and another teammate clapped him on the back. The screen lit up with the first plays and he stuffed a bite of slaw past his lips and reached for his water bottle. The sounds of heated cheering filled the air around him while he tried to decide if he wanted to eat his cookies next or save them for actual dessert once he was finished. He’d been looking forward to this all week and it was turning out to be everything he hoped it would be.

\- - -

Elijah unlocked the door to the apartment with one hand, his other arm wound supportively behind Micah’s shoulders as he herded him along. He paused long enough to close the door behind them both and lock a few cursory bolts, but a small groan and strained hiccup from his best friend urged him to make their way to the couch a moment later.

“El…” Micah whined softly as Elijah helped him ease into the couch and lean back against the pillows. Elijah waited for the rest of the complaint, but Micah only hiccuped again and clutched at his swollen stomach with a grimace, his eyes squeezing shut.

“Shhh, I’m going to get the hot water bottle for you, alright?” Elijah rested a hand over the round curve of Micah’s tummy, beginning to rub circles with his thumb as gently as he could over the grumbles he could feel. He’d already been trying to soothe Micah’s stomachache on the bus ride home, but it shocked him again when he felt how tight the swell was under Micah’s ribs. It had been a while since he’d seen his best friend overdo it _this_ much. And the breathless groans coupled with the lack of complaints had him really rather worried over the state Micah had gotten himself into.

After he had rubbed comforting circles for a few minutes, long enough to relieve the crease of discomfort in Micah’s brow just a little, Elijah stood and moved to the medicine cabinet. He didn’t think Micah could get any tea or antacids down at the moment but the hot compress would help. He heated water and filled the bottle and returned to Micah as quickly as he could.

Micah grunted miserably when Elijah sat close to him and placed his hand back over his belly after tucking the water bottle against his waist. Elijah was careful not to press too hard, but he smoothed his palm tenderly over Micah’s stretched sides and felt with his fingertips for twinges to rub and soothe away.

After a few minutes, Micah managed to gasp out, “El, it _hurts_ …”

“I know, I’m trying to help.” Elijah leaned down to press a kiss to his best friend’s soft head, and got a groan in response. He gently moved Micah’s hand away from what was apparently a particularly sore place and massaged with the heel of his hand to work out the cramp. Micah moaned softly and squirmed and Elijah brushed a stray curl away from his eyes.

A moment later, Elijah couldn’t resist scolding, very affectionately, “You ate too much, Micah.”

Micah huffed, aggrieved, and rolled over just enough to bury his face against Elijah’s chest. He groaned as Elijah began rubbing a hand up and down his back, pausing to pat every so often, while still rubbing over the crest of his swollen stomach as helpfully as he could. Micah muffled a strained belch into the back of his hand after a minute and made a sound somewhere between a whimper and a sigh of relief. Elijah kept patting his back and kneading carefully at the tight swell to encourage more air up and get him relaxed enough that the ache would ease a little.

About half an hour later, Elijah felt a flicker of relief when Micah mumbled out a series of rueful complaints, and with another soft rub around the curve of his best friend’s stomach, he offered to get some antacids, and Micah agreed with a little moan and a nod. That, plus a refresh of the hot water bottle and a remanuvering on the couch, left Micah cuddled on his lap and curled against his chest. Elijah coaxed the antacids and a sip or two of water into his friend with a soft chuckle and then got back to rubbing and soothing his tummy as best he could.

“I think you will feel better if you take a nap?” Elijah suggested as he thumped Micah softly on the back again. Micah covered the burp that followed a touch too late. “Do you want to move to the bed?”

Micah yawned against Elijah’s collarbone, another small, soft groan leaving him as he exhaled. “I really wanna stay here. You don’t have to get up and do anything do you?”

“Not for a while.” Elijah ruffled his best friend’s curls and smiled sympathetically as he looked down when Micah blinked up at him. “I can sit here with you long enough for you to get a nap.”

“Thanks for taking care of me, El.” Micah mumbled, his face going a little red. Elijah clucked softly and petted his friend’s curls again and circled his thumb over the place above Micah’s navel where the cramps tended to be the worst.

“Of course.” He murmured, and rested his chin over his best friend’s head, holding him close. “I just want you to feel better.”

“You’re such a fucking sap.” Micah grumbled under his breath, and then the rise and fall of his chest fell into the soft rhythm of sleep.

 


	14. Mirefew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "As much as I love these stories, Elijah is definitely my favorite out of your characters. I'd love to read one on the poor guy eating something he shouldn't have and suffer the couch with almost no relief until micah fixes it with cuddles and plenty of belly rubs. Sickly gurgling and belches are a plus." - Coda
> 
> I had already written a scenario pretty close to this on my tumblr blog, in two parts! I'm going to fill in this chapter/request using both, with their respective prompts attached. ^^ (also I'm very happy you're enjoying my stories, thank you!)

_((Ugh I would love to see Elijah getting his tummy held when not feeling good, especially because it makes him feel so good to have that contact from Micah. Maybe some little pats too? - anon))_

Elijah grimaced and lifted a hand, trapping Micah’s under his own on his belly, and groaned softly. “Nngh… don’t.”

“ _Don’t?_ ” Micah repeated incredulously, looking at him with alarm. “What do you mean, _don’t?_ ”

“Hurts.” Elijah winced as another sharp twinge rippled through his stomach.

“I know it hurts, you dumbass, that’s why I’m trying to rub it for you.”

“Too heavy.” Elijah grunted, shifting uncomfortably. A low, deep rumble trickled through the contents of his packed stomach and he moaned, stifling a burp behind his other hand. 

“You bastard, what did you even _eat?_ ”

Elijah blinked, trying to remember. Micah cuddled closer to his side, sliding his hand a bit lower, cradling the heavy pull of Elijah’s sore belly with a gentle pressure. The warmth of his hand eased a cramp and Elijah sighed, feeling comforted. “Stew. From the marketplace I showed you. Thought it was rockrat… seems to have been something else.”

“You don’t _know_ what you put in your tummy??” Micah’s voice rose incredulously and Elijah frowned, a little too groggy to defend himself. 

“Was hungry. Not much chance for meals the past couple of days.”

Micah sighed dramatically and brought his other hand to Elijah’s stretched stomach with a soft pat that loosened another belch. But instead of rubbing at the slight mix of ache and upset, he just rested his hands at the swollen curve, holding where it hurt and helping Elijah relax. 

“You wanna try to sleep it off?” Micah patted again at another sharp gurgle. Elijah closed his eyes and tucked himself closer to Micah tiredly.

“Mhm. Thank you, Micah…”

“No problem, fuckface.” Micah kissed his cheek. “Just feel better, okay?”

\- - -

_((may I suggest nightmares caused by indigestion? Any character you'd like I just love that trope and it's so rare to see it it's like nobody knows about it [@bellyclown]_

_\- continued from the prompt above! Perspective switch from Elijah to Micah.))_

Micah had almost dozed off next to Elijah when he felt his friend shift just before he groaned unhappily in his sleep. Micah lifted his head and yawned, frowning softly at the pinched look between Elijah’s eyes, and wondered what was wrong… well, besides the obvious.

As soon as he had the thought, his best friend’s heavy stomach rumbled unpleasantly beneath his palms, and Micah sighed, stroking a hand very gently over the curve. The movement drew another moan from Elijah and Micah stopped, biting his lip in worry. Elijah _loved_ having his tummy rubbed. To suddenly be in enough pain that he didn’t want it was freaking Micah out a little, if he were honest.

As Micah watched, Elijah’s sleep grew more and more restless. He shifted and twitched every few minutes, belly gurgling in tandem with his winces, as he murmured out little sounds of discomfort. After a short while, his breath started hitching, then caught just before he belched quietly, swallowing afterwards. Micah ran a hand through his curls as he realized what was happening. The stomach trouble was giving Elijah a _nightmare_.

Micah hesitated, splaying one hand more fully over Elijah’s tummy, hoping to comfort him. Should he wake him up? Elijah’s nightmares were usually pretty intense; bloody memories from nights out on the streets. But he didn’t seem _that_ distressed yet, and maybe if he could just sleep through it then he’d wake up feeling better…

The decision was taken from him a moment later though, when Elijah came to with a little start, blue eyes snapping open and his body tensing defensively as he glanced dazedly around the room. His gaze landed on Micah and he relaxed momentarily, before his face tightened with another grimace and he covered his mouth, a deeper burp making its way up. He groaned and Micah smiled at him in sympathy.

“Well, that wasn’t much of a nap. You okay, dude? Your tummy sounds awful.”

Elijah grunted and started to turn over slightly, stopping when his stomach let out an angry grumble. He rested a hand over it and looked regretful, then his jaw tightened as he tried to stifle another burp. “Mm… weird dream.”

“Weird?” Micah questioned, moving closer again so he could put both hands back on Elijah’s middle, trying to sneak in a little rub, but his best friend shifted uncomfortably and he let his hands rest. He tried to decide if “weird” was the same as “bad,” and whether or not it he needed to ask, or if Elijah, for once, wasn’t hiding his feelings. “Weird how?”

Elijah pressed his lips together, then pressed a closed fist to his lips, and Micah worried he was going to be sick or something, but then a low sound rumbled in his chest and he exhaled heavily a moment later. Just a burp then, but they seemed to be really bothering him. He made a face and inched closer in the cuddle.

“Was at school. No one around… in the library, sorting books. None would fit right… They would all end up back on the floor every time I went back in the room. Also no ceiling and…” Elijah paused to burp, “Something dark overhead. Something in the back of the room I couldn’t see.”

“That’s creepy as fuck.” Micah announced decisively, smiling a little when Elijah put his forehead on his shoulder with a sigh. Then he pulled back slightly again to cover another belch, another grimace, and Micah’s smile dropped away. “Come on man, you didn’t eat something like… really _poisonous_ or anything, did you?”

“No.” Elijah mumbled, shaking his head a bit. “Suspect it was Mirefew.”

“Mirefew?”

“Herb from feliken culture. Not easy on human stomachs.”

“It’s making you burp like crazy.” Micah pointed out helpfully, just before Elijah covered his mouth again, suppressing another deep rumble. “How does your tummy feel?”

Elijah closed his eyes and grunted quietly. “I’m alright.”

“No the fuck you’re not.” Micah rolled his eyes. “Come on dumbass, I can tell you feel really shitty. Just tell me what’s wrong. And maybe while you’re at it, why you don’t want your tummy rubbed?” He pressed a hand lightly against Elijah’s belly to emphasize his point, then blinked apologetically when his best friend stiffened with a faint sound of pain. 

“Mirefew can irritate the stomach lining along with causing indigestion. It should pass on its own, but it…” Elijah covered Micah’s hand with his own and moved it off the center of his belly. “…hurts more when you press down.”

“You poor bastard.” Micah muttered affectionately, and swore he could feel Elijah relax and nestle closer. “Are you sure it wouldn’t help just a little though? Since y’know,” He paused as Elijah turned his head away to belch again, “It might help you get all the air out of your tummy?”

“Don’t want you to.” Elijah murmured, an unmistakable groan edging the words, and Micah looked at him sadly. He really wasn’t feeling well.

“Roll the other way then, maybe? I’ll rub your back instead.”

Elijah hesitated, a hint of guilt in his eyes that made Micah’s heart clench. Worried he was being too much trouble again. “I will be alright if I just…”

“Nope, you’re not arguing with me this time.” Micah gave his shoulder a gentle push. “Turn over you giant fucking behemoth.”

Elijah sighed but obeyed, turning on his other side, his back to Micah. A single pat to his back had him reaching for his mouth to cover another deep belch, then he just left his hand there to stifle each one as Micah rubbed and patted at his lower back and between his shoulders.

When he’d finally stopped burping and seemed to be winding down to rest, Elijah suddenly shifted and pressed back against Micah’s chest a little more. Micah smiled softly and draped an arm over his best friend, feeling him settle beneath it. “You okay? Your tummyache’s not getting worse or anything, is it?”

Elijah made a vague sound of disagreement. There was a tenseness in him that hadn’t let up. Micah thought about what that could mean, resting a cheek on Elijah’s back. “I’m sorry you had a bad dream, El.”

“Not bad. Just… unusual.” Elijah answered immediately and sounded frustrated and Micah suddenly understood. He rubbed his friend’s shoulder gently.

“It’s bad if it made you _feel_ bad, okay? It doesn’t have to be scary or violent to be a bad dream. You’re not overreacting or whatever.”

The tension started trickling out of Elijah’s shoulders. He reached for Micah’s hand and held it in his big one. “Thank you, Micah.”

“You should go back to sleep, and maybe when you wake up if you’re feeling a little better, you’ll want a tummy rub then?”

“Maybe.” Elijah sounded amused, if still rather pained. He pulled a pillow closer under his cheek and gave Micah’s hand a light squeeze. “…stay here?”

“I’m too lazy to move.” Micah chuckled, and heard the sound of a beard brushing a pillowcase when Elijah smiled. He hugged Elijah tightly, careful of his aching tummy, and pressed his forehead to the back of his neck. “Love you, El.”

A drowsy, heartfelt moan was his only response.


	15. Fish Fest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ((Filled request - "The Beans are at the seashore and there’s a seafood festival going on along the boardwalk. and Elijah is So Very Stuffed with fish but then he spots some hot steamed crab legs and cannot resist despite Micah’s many warnings. Perhaps something with a Happy Groany Bean falling asleep in a cuddle by the sea after managing to fit those crab legs into his tummy? c;" – @ginger-and-mint))

Elijah bit back a wince as Micah’s hand collided with his side. He reached down and gently peeled his best friend’s fingers away, lifting his other hand to his mouth a moment later to muffle a strained belch. “Micah, if you want my attention, tap my _shoulder_ , not my stomach.” **  
**

“Sorry. I was actually aiming for your back, but you turned around.” Micah slid him a dry look. “You need to sit _down_ , dumbass. There’s a bench right over here.”

“I’m alright.” Elijah insisted, turning to head back in the direction he’d been walking, ignoring Micah’s scoff of disbelief and struggling against the urge to press a hand to the heavy feeling in his stomach. The two of them were visiting the eastern shore for their first week of summer, and the town they were staying in was celebrating a seafood festival. They’d been touring the boardwalk all afternoon, sampling various dishes, and Elijah was so _full_. But he wasn’t keen on sitting down on an open bench in the midst of a never-ending stream of people. He’d much rather keep walking and enjoy the salt-tinted breeze and the sight of the glistening waves dancing under the sun. Even if the pulse in the center of his stuffed belly _was_ growing uncomfortable.

Somewhere behind him, Micah hefted an exasperated sigh, but quickly caught up, taking one of his hands and only muttering under his breath once when Elijah gave an affectionate squeeze.

“You wanna go back to the hotel?” Micah looked up at him when they paused on a corner to let a group of teenagers shoulder past them. “We could always come back and look at the souvenir stuff tomorrow.”

Elijah made a sound of mild confusion. “I thought you wanted to do that today?”

“I’m not really set one way or the other but–” Micah reached out and gently but shamelessly patted over Elijah’s middle, causing him to flush deeply, “I really think we should just go back and rest. I’m pretty full too, honestly. Wouldn’t mind getting to relax the rest of the evening.”

“I suppose we could do that.” Elijah mumbled bashfully. “If you are sure you–”

As they continued walking, a small, brightly-decorated stand near the end of the boardwalk caught his eye. They were advertising a deal on freshly-steamed crab legs, that were pre-split to make for easy eating and stacked conveniently in a brown paper bag. Elijah had spent most of the afternoon looking among the stands they visited specifically for crab legs, but had ended up settling for some crab cakes earlier after not being able to find any.

Micah looked to where his gaze had traveled before groaning aloud. “Dude, no _fucking_ way, you are _done_.”

“This will be the last thing!” Elijah protested, and Micah quickly latched onto his shoulder as if he thought he could restrain him.

“Dammit, your tummy is going to be hurting the rest of the night if you eat a whole thing of those!” Micah tugged on his arm again, to no avail as Elijah had decided to dig his heels in and refuse to budge. “Seriously, do I need to _remind_ you of everything you ate?”

“I think that would be quite unnecessary.” Elijah said dryly, but of course, was ignored. Micah was already ticking off his fingers.

“Pretty sure you had like three fish filets at once at that first booth. Then that little box of oysters. The clam chowder – and then you stopped for the grilled skewer that had, uhh… broccoli and shrimp and mushrooms. Some kinda fried thing I can’t pronounce. Crab cakes. Two, I think. Grilled fucking eel. I didn’t even know people _eat_ eel. Mac and cheese with clams and scallops in it? Then there was some other kind of shrimp cooked a different way but now I can’t remember what it was.”

Elijah tried to stifle the groan that would prove Micah’s point but he couldn’t quite stop himself from lifting a hand to rub at his stomach a little. “Crab is a light meat, though.” He argued, determined to hold his ground. “We could take some of it back to the hotel…”

Micah shook his head and released Elijah’s arm. “You know what, just forget it. I know when I’m not winning an argument with you.”

Elijah felt a sudden pang that had nothing to do with everything he’d stuffed down that afternoon. He didn’t want Micah to be _mad_ at him.

Before he could open his mouth though, his best friend seemed to read his expression and lifted a hand to his back reassuringly. “Calm down, you bastard. You’ll _really_ upset your tummy if you get worked up. I just mean I don’t want to fight about it. And you _were_ looking for this earlier… would kinda suck if we had to go back without it after you finally spotted a damn booth for it. Just stop if you start to feel sick – okay?”

Elijah could feel himself lighting up. “Really?”

Micah smirked back at him. “Yeah. Really.”

“Do you want any?”

At that, Micah laughed and shook his head. “I’m full and I’m not fish-stupid, so no. Maybe I can find a place for us to sit down instead?” He craned his head around Elijah and said, “It looks like there’s a picnic area right down on the beach? It’d be kinda sandy but there’s not as many people there.”

“That would be preferable to sitting up here,” Elijah admitted with a sigh, looking around at the crowds. Do you want something to drink?”

“Huh – yeah, I guess a soda would be nice. Or just a water if they don’t have anything else.” Micah turned and headed for the beach below the boardwalk. “I’ll save us a seat!”

Ten minutes later, Elijah joined him with a bag of crab legs and two bottles of water in hand, smiling and handing one to Micah as he settled next to his best friend on the bench he’d picked out.

“Thanks, El.” Micah cracked the bottle open and took a sip, giving him a sideways glance when he reached into the bag for a claw and abruptly hiccuped. “Your tummy doesn’t hurt right _now_ , does it?”

“Mm– no.” Elijah pried the shell open, scooped out the soft, white meat inside, and dipped it in a little cup of butter before popping it past his lips. The taste melted over his tongue and he hummed in pleasure, chewing as he picked up another shell to break in half even as his belly grumbled warningly. “Just full.”

“Just be careful.” Micah chuckled and pulled out his phone to play a game.

For the next several minutes, the two of them fell into comfortable silence as Elijah focused on his bag of seafood and the background noise of the tourists up on the boardwalk filled the air. Seagulls wheeled overhead and gave laughing cries and the waves crashed on the shore only a couple dozen yards away. The light breeze smelled of brine and driftwood.

Elijah probably only had two or three crab legs left in the bag when a sudden cramp in his belly made him huff slightly and then rush to cover a deep belch as it squeezed up through the contents of his packed stomach. He swallowed and groaned and pressed a hand over the swollen tightness in his middle as a low gurgling followed and Micah quickly scooted over to put an arm around him.

“I’m alright–” Elijah protested when his best friend confiscated the bag. “It doesn’t hurt, I can finish them.”

Micah hesitated, looking incredulous. “Sure _sounds_ like it hurts.” He patted Elijah’s belly pointedly, and Elijah held back another groan. He really _wasn’t_ in pain, not yet, but the heavy feeling was making his thoughts sluggish and bringing his breaths up short. His stomach felt huge and he couldn’t help squirming a little under Micah’s hand.

“It’s not enough to be worth taking back.” Elijah pointed out and Micah frowned slightly, considering. Very slowly, he set the bag down on his other side and cuddled a little closer.

“Okay, _maybe_ you can have them back. If your tummy really doesn’t hurt. But let me rub it a little first, El.” Micah glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention to them and then smoothed his palm in a wide arc over the curve of Elijah’s swollen stomach, before kneading carefully with the pads of his fingers into his sides. The rub sent a wave of relief through him and Elijah grunted, sitting back against the bench in a dazed stupor. The pressure in his overfull belly began to ease and ebb and he shivered happily, trying to keep at least a modicum of decorum and not press up into Micah’s hands too blatantly.

Micah had just reached to cautiously return the crab to Elijah when his stomach began to rumble again and Micah hesitated once more, frowning. With effort, Elijah reached forward to take the bag and gave his friend an imploring look. “It’s only a little.”

“I know you can probably handle it but I don’t want you to make yourself sick.” Micah sighed and settled for rubbing at his stomach again.

“I won’t.” Elijah cracked into a shell and chewed and swallowed the bite a bit forcefully. “I’ll be alright.”

He almost gave up with about two morsels left in the bag. Micah was rubbing steadily and soothingly over his stomach, stretched taut and grumbling plaintively, and he was clutching at his side himself, working a thumb into the tense muscles below his ribs. But then Micah pressed the heel of his hand in just above his navel, pushed up a deep pocket of air, and Elijah sighed and groaned and forced down the last few bites. He let Micah take the empty bag and toss it into the nearest recycling bin, and then slumped down over the bench, stretching out as much as he could so Micah could rub away the tightness and pressure.

“I can’t believe you actually _fit_ all that in here.” Micah laughed under his breath and stroked a hand warmly over the bulge beneath Elijah’s ribs, prompting a strained hiccup. “You feel okay, you dumbass?”

Elijah let his cheek rest atop Micah’s soft head and closed his eyes. His best friend was massaging over the front of his engorged stomach and pressing relief against the twinges and gurgles. He felt _so good._ “Mmhm…”

“If you fall asleep out here, I’m going to have to wake you up before it gets dark, you behemoth.” Micah chuckled and scratched a broad circle against his side.

Elijah tried to communicate that he understood, but it came out as a groan. He wasn’t quite sure what else happened between when his eyes closed and he slipped away into a soft darkness – except that Micah was holding him in a warm hug, was rubbing comfort across every inch of his swollen stomach, and the sound of waves crashing closer than before meant the tide was coming in.


End file.
